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Thank You for Bringing This foster Dog Into My Life


Ickle
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[size=6][b]I hope you enjoy the little story below, and wipe tears as I always do.

THANK YOU FOR BRINGING THIS FOSTER DOG INTO MY LIFE
Had I not made the decision to participate in rescue, I would never have
had the chance to meet him. If I had sat here comfortably in my home and
said "I already have four dogs and I know that I couldn't take in another -
even on a temporary basis," I would never have met this dog.
Yes, it takes time to rescue and foster... but who gave me time in the
first place? And why or what was the reason I was given Time? To fill my
own needs?
Or was there another reason ever so small and seemingly insignificant, like
rescuing this one dog that could make a difference in another's life?
Perhaps to add joy, hope, help and companionship to another who is in need?
With great sadness, I sat down on a footstool in my kitchen this morning
and watched as this foster dog bounced back into the house and skidded
across the floor to sit ever so perfectly in front of me.
He was the picture of health, finally. He was all smiles for me...and I
smiled back at his happy face. Deep in his eyes, the storm clouds of
illness and generalized poor health had blown away, and the clear light of
his perfection radiated out from his beautiful soul.
He holds no ill will toward man. He forgives us all. I thought to myself as
I impressed this one last long look of him into my heart, what a very fine
creature you have created.
Tears slowly pooled and spilled over my cheekbones as the deeper
realization of how wonderful this dog is sank into my internal file cabinet
of Needful Things to Remember.
Lord, he's a dog - but he's a better human being than I am. He has forgiven so
quickly. Would I do the same? He passionately enjoys the simple things in
life, and I have often overlooked them.
He accepts change and gets on with his life! I fuss and worry about change.
He lives today and loves today. And I often dwell in the past or worry
about the future. He loves no matter what. I am not that free.
This very lovely dog has gone to his new home today and already I miss him.
Thank you for bringing this dog into my life. And thank you for the
beautiful and tender lesson on how to be a better human.
Author Unknown
Received from Frogdoggers[/b][/size]

Ickle

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K posted this one a long time ago. also a tearjerker, but a good read

My Foster Dog Is Beautiful
Written by: Martha O'Connor

My foster dog stinks to high heaven. I don't know for sure what breed he is. His eyes are blank and hard. He won't let me pet him and growls when I reach for him. He has ragged scars and crusty sores on his skin. His nails are long and his teeth, which he showed me, are stained. I sigh. I drove two hours for this. I carefully maneuver him so that I can stuff him in the crate. Then I heft the crate and put it in the car. I am going home with my new foster dog.

At home I leave him in the crate till all the other dogs are in the yard. I get him out of the crate and ask him if he wants 'outside.' As I lead him to the door he hikes his leg on the wall and shows me his stained teeth again. When we come in he goes to the crate, because that's the only safe place he sees. I offer him food, but he won't eat it if I look at him; so, I turn my back. When I come back the food is gone. I ask again about 'outside.' When we come back, I pat him before I let him in the crate; he jerks away and runs into the crate to show me his teeth.

The next day I decide I can't stand the stink any longer. I lead him into the bath with cheese in my hand. His fear of me is not quite overcome by his wish for the cheese. And well he should fear me, for I will give him a bath. After an attempt or two to bail out, he is defeated and stands there. I have bathed four-legged bath squirters for more dog years than he has been alive. His only defense was a show of his stained teeth that did not hold up to a face full of water. As I wash him it is almost as if I wash not only the stink and dirt away but also some of his hardness. His eyes look full of sadness now. And he looks completely pitiful as only a soap-covered dog can. I tell him that he will feel better when he is cleaned. After the soap, the towels are not too bad; so, he lets me rub him dry. I take him outside. He runs for joy: the joy of not being in the tub and the joy of being clean. I, the bath giver, am allowed to share the joy. He comes to me and lets me pet him.

One week later I have a vet bill. His skin is healing. He likes for me to pet him. I think I know what color he will be when his hair grows in. I have found out he is terrified of other dogs. So I carefully introduce him to my mildest four legged brat. It doesn't go well.

Two weeks later there is a new vet bill for an infection that was missed on the first visit. He plays with the other dogs.

Three weeks later he asks to be petted. He chewed up part of the rug.

Eight weeks later his coat shines, and he has gained weight. He shows his clean teeth when his tongue lolls out after he plays chase in the yard with the gang. His eyes are soft and filled with life. He loves hugs and likes to show off his tricks, if you have the cheese.

Someone called today and asked about him; they saw the picture I took the first week. They asked about his personality, his history, his breed. They asked if he was pretty. I asked them lots of questions. I checked up on them. I prayed. I said yes. When they saw him the first time, they said he was the most beautiful dog they had ever seen.

Six months later I got a call from his new family. He is wonderful, smart, well-behaved and very loving. How could someone not want him?

I told them I didn't know.

He is beautiful.

They all are.

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I am a co-ordinator for sheltie rescue in the UK and we have foster parents who I agree with you are the most marvellous of folks
We should cherish them always
Bless them all wherever they live in the world.
Loved that last tale .Thanks for sharing.
Ickle

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