I’ve been talking (in the form of email and phone messages) to my local shelter about fostering a fearful dog.
Nothing is certain until I reach a voice on the other end of the phone. But we’re getting ready and assuming it’s going to happen.
Fostering, as you can imagine, brings a little stress into the house.
There’s the peeing on the floor, chewing inappropriate things, and games of bitey face on the couch. And then there’s the new dog we have to contend with.
If it was up to my husband, we wouldn’t foster. He would not bring a dog into the house at all.
But he supports me in everything I want to do. Even when it makes his life more complicated.
Let me show you what I found when I got up this morning:
Need a closer look?
You see, not owning a car makes bringing a foster dog into the house a two-person operation.
Our carshare only allows dogs if they’re crated. The rental van that is big enough for a decent sized crate is a mile from the house. And a fearful dog who has never walked on leash could not handle the walk with me schlepping a crate in my other hand.
So Mike will give up his lunch to help me make dog introductions and return the car.
Isn’t that sweet?
And now you know why I love him.
Because, given that he takes selfies that look like this, it had to be something.