They don’t have room, but somehow they find the space. When a dog is stressed from kennel life, or in need a quiet place to heal or a family to teach them the ropes, or a rescue can’t take him unless a foster home is available – these families say, “We can take him home.”
They open their houses and hearts to fall in love with a dog that they know isn’t theirs for keeps. They go to work providing crate and leash training, socialization, medication and extra meals as needed. They separate resident pets from foster dogs if they have to, scoop extra poop, write blogs, take photos and spent their weekends at adoption events.
They take on all of the work that comes along with bringing home a new dog, and then some.
They do their best to balance holding tight and letting go. It is a tricky dance to care so deeply for a guest, since dogs stay forever in our hearts. But when people tell them, “I couldn’t foster because it would be too hard to give the dog up.” They say, “How can it be harder than knowing a dog died because no foster home stepped up?” And that is why they do it time and again.
And while they worry they might not be strong enough to let this one go, something special happens: The right adoption application arrives!
They lifted a single soul up, out of the crowd and floating on their hands, their foster dog arrived in the arms of the family that has been searching for him. It was all worthwhile.
They are the specialists, the deep sea divers, working the details of a dog’s life until he’s ready for prime time.
They bridge the gap to a new life.
They are foster families – true everyday heroes.
And sometimes, they are the bridge to somewhere deeper, a place to rest.
They understand that the troubled souls, the weak bodied, the ancient, are having a tough go of this world. And so they step up to the loneliest plate and say, “We can take her home until it’s time. We will be her final family.”
They give some very special dogs a loving home before they leave this earth.
They commit to walking alongside these dogs until the last moments. What some of us are not strong enough to do for our own pets, they choose to do for dogs they have only known for a month, a week, a day, an hour.
Fiercely they say, “I see you. I love you. You are not a number or a mistake or a victim anymore. You are mine and I will walk with you until the end.”
They are warriors of the heart.
They are compassion foster families. They are everyday heroes.
Above posted in Stubby Dog
Melissa sat on the floor, unable to sit straight and tall like her mother had always admonished her to do when she was a child. Today, it would be impossible. And tomorrow... it probably wouldn't be possible then either. Her mind was too busy thinking about the dog that lay across her lap.
When he came to be with her, he had no name. She remembered that day very well. The first sight of him was enough to break her heart into little pieces.
The woman, who had taken this dog from the rough streets where he had lived, had tried to save him because she was unable to watch this young dog find his own food in a dumpster outside the crack house where he lived. Nobody cared that he was gone.
His fur was very thick; so thick that she had to wiggle her fingers down to feel his bony body. And as she pulled her fingers away again, they were coated in old dirt. Black and white, he was supposed to be. But on that day he was beige and dust.
He sat in the back of her car panting continuously, ears laid outward for he had lost his courage and couldn't keep them proud and tall. He sat motionless, waiting and limp.
But the thing that was the most disturbing was the look in his eyes. They were quiet eyes, sunken into his head - and they watched her. They were alive with thought. He was waiting for her to do something "to" him.
Little did he know at the time that, instead, she would "give" something to him. She gave him one of the little broken pieces of her heart.
She reached out to stroke his head and he instinctively squinched his eyes shut and dropped his head, waiting for the heavy hand. With that little bit of movement she gave him another one of the broken pieces of her heart.
She took him home and gave him a bath. She toweled him dry and brushed some order back into his coat. For that, he was grateful and even though his own heart was loaded with worms, he accepted yet another piece of her heart, for it would help to heal his own.
"Would you like some water, big boy?" She whispered to him as she set down a large bowl of cold well water. He drank it up happily. He had been dehydrated for a long time and she knew it would take him most of the week to re-hydrate.
He wanted more water - but it was gone. Ah... that's how it is, he thought to himself. But he was grateful for what he had been able to get. "Would you like some more?" and she gave him another bowl along with another little piece of her heart.
"I know that you are hungry. You don't have to find your own food anymore. Here's a big bowl of good food for you. I've added some warm water and a little piece of my heart."
Over the four months that he stayed with her, his health improved. The heart full of worms was replaced piece by piece with little bits of her loving heart. And each little piece worked a very special kind of magic.
When the warmth of love and gentle caresses are added, the little broken pieces knit together again and heal the container it resides in. That container becomes whole again.
She watched each little broken piece fill a gap in the gentle dog until his quiet eyes radiated the light from the little pieces. You see, kind words gently spoken turn the little pieces into illumination for the spirit that resides within.
He rested beside her, happy to be with her always. Never had he known such kindness, such gentle caresses; such love. His health had returned, his spirit was playful as a young dog's should be and he had learned about love.
Now his heart was full. The healing was complete. It was time to go. There was another person who had another heart that was meant to be shared with him.
So she sat shapeless on the floor because all the broken pieces of her heart were with the dog. It is difficult to sit tall when your heart is not with you. She wrapped her arms around the dog that sat with tall, proud ears for her. Lean on me, he said.
And she gave him one last thing that would keep him strong; that would keep the pieces of her heart together long after he had gone on to live his new life. She gave him her tears and bound them to the pieces with a simple statement made from the ribbons of her heart.
"I love you, Joe."
And Joe lived happily ever after.
Melissa sat on the floor, straight and tall like her mother had always admonished her to do when she was a child. Today, it would be possible. And tomorrow... it probably would be possible too. Because her mind was busy thinking about this, the next dog that lay across her lap.
Where did she get the heart to help yet another dog, you ask?
Ahhh... it came with the dog. They always bring a little bit of heart with them. And when the rescuer breathes in that little bit of heart, it quickly grows and fills the void left by the last dog.
Not a day goes by that I don't think about my fosters and how they are and if they're happy.
0 comments:
Post a Comment