Wendy Sura Thomson
No One Can Save Everything
You might have noticed that I don't blog often. I don't, it's true. For me to blog, it's got to be something I deem important, and much of my life isn't really that important enough to share. Okay - I get it. I'm basically an introvert.
The pictures above are of a dog I fostered a few years ago, and that I went and emergency rescued from her adopter four weeks ago. I told the rescue organization it had to be temporary - I already have three dogs. Four is too many. I had Jada for three weeks before the rescue organization could arrange transport back to Tennessee, where it's located. Saying goodbye broke my heart. This poor dog.
I didn't know until a few days ago that Jada had two fosters before me. I knew she hated change, though. She hid in her crate forever when she first got here, first time around. She hid in the crate the second time around for a couple of days. It took her a a good ten days to remember me, but she finally did. She came out of the crate, and she came up to me, putting her paws in my lap for pets. She had been around other dogs all her life, but between the first time and this last time that I fostered her, something happened. She went from being good with other dogs to becoming not predictably good with other dogs.
Last Saturday was when I drove down to Ohio to meet the transport back to Tennessee. That morning Jada greeted me the most enthusiastically she had ever: waggy tail, smile, little happy jumps. Broke my heart, because I knew I had to send her to yet another placement that afternoon. A friend drove down with me... Jada knew. We had to lift her into the car, and she crawled down to the floor in the back. She had to be lifted into the transporter's car, and as I scratched her ears and kissed her head, her eyes desperately searched mine. I could just tell... "Not again. Oh please, don't leave me. I was so happy this morning when I saw you. Do I have to leave?"
The first picture is her, comfortable on my couch. The second picture is her, shut down again at her fourth foster placement. New home, again. She is a wonderful dog for the right home - only dog in a quiet home. In that environment she is perfect. Low maintenance. Perfect house manners. Very content to sit by you and gnaw on a bone. She doesn't even bark much. I contacted hundreds of people... friends contacted hundreds more. No takers.
I chatted with her current foster this morning. It's a dog issue there, too - that foster has four other resident dogs. Jada is simply fed up. Fed up with not having a secure home. Fed up with all of the change. Fed up with having to adjust - once again. After four years, she needs a place of her own. I know that, and I simply could not give it to her. And that makes me feel guilty. She deserves a permanent place. And I could not give her that. I could not save her.