A
couple of days ago a neighbor told me about a girl whose father had died,
forcing her into foster care.
She
couldn’t keep her beloved dog, Rosie, with her foster family so she had to find
a home for her.
As my neighbor was telling this story, I got a little teary, especially when she asked if I knew of someone who wanted a sweet 6-year-old 45 pound tri-colored Aussie named Rosie.
I told her to email the story and some Rosie pictures so I could post it on my blog—we would find a home for her.
As I was about to post the story, the neighbor called to ask me to hold off my posting it because someone was considering adopting Rosie—she’d know the next day.
I contacted her the next day and she asked me to hold off another day. I suggested that I post it anyway because it wouldn’t hurt to have a back up offer.
Then she came clean.
She
told me that if the people who were considering Rosie didn’t take her, than she
and her two daughters would.
The story had a familiar ring to it. It reminded me of my first dog fostering experience for the Humane Society. Yeah, I did a great job fostering Moondoggie. Some day (in my next life maybe) I’ll actually give her up for adoption.
So Rosie’s story has a happy ending.
And we have a new dog in the neighborhood.
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