* *
Last November, in the middle of the dinosaur play area at the mall, Seth and I decided to foster our third dog. Well, it was my idea as always but Seth's a good sport.
Maximus was a thirteen year old Lhasa mix whose owner had passed away and surviving family couldn't keep him. He was an old man and the Uintah Animal Shelter knew he'd do better if he was out. We saw him in a Facebook post. We met him in the parking lot of a vet clinic at a transport rendezvous.
It's so hard to guess what adjustment will be like for dogs who are getting to know your family, or us with them, for that matter. Most of our getting-to-know-you period was peppered with vet visits to remedy allergies and lots of food and med trials. The rescue group we foster with, Utah Animal Advocacy Foundation, is phenomenal at making sure their fosters don't stress the vet responsibilities so we can focus on making our animals feel at home. Since Max had been someone's before he seemed to favor spots that maybe reminded him of his old home: wherever we were, of course, and also the top of the love-seat in the back room where he could look out the window.
We quickly became a 3 puff family again. Old dogs satelliting around our every day. Helping me cook dinner in the kitchen. Lounging at the base of the rocking chair while we read the kids to sleep. Sunning in the backyard. Curling up on couches. Barking at anyone who came to the door. Filling up all the beds next to ours.
We haven't shown at adoptions because we haven't had a solid health profile for him this past year. He's gotten to live uninterrupted at our house. I have selfishly gotten to pretend Max is ours, right alongside Conor and Sake.
So, when he started losing weight and the ultrasound tech relayed that he might have Lymphoma, I received the news like he was ours.
While very capable people decide where we go from here, we will keep him comfy, try to find something he likes to eat that isn't dropped from the highchair, give him as much quiet time as is manageable in our wild ranch, and most definitely give him lots of love. I have to believe that love heals.
::listening to "sigur 3 (untitled)" by sigur ros::
Maximus was a thirteen year old Lhasa mix whose owner had passed away and surviving family couldn't keep him. He was an old man and the Uintah Animal Shelter knew he'd do better if he was out. We saw him in a Facebook post. We met him in the parking lot of a vet clinic at a transport rendezvous.
It's so hard to guess what adjustment will be like for dogs who are getting to know your family, or us with them, for that matter. Most of our getting-to-know-you period was peppered with vet visits to remedy allergies and lots of food and med trials. The rescue group we foster with, Utah Animal Advocacy Foundation, is phenomenal at making sure their fosters don't stress the vet responsibilities so we can focus on making our animals feel at home. Since Max had been someone's before he seemed to favor spots that maybe reminded him of his old home: wherever we were, of course, and also the top of the love-seat in the back room where he could look out the window.
We quickly became a 3 puff family again. Old dogs satelliting around our every day. Helping me cook dinner in the kitchen. Lounging at the base of the rocking chair while we read the kids to sleep. Sunning in the backyard. Curling up on couches. Barking at anyone who came to the door. Filling up all the beds next to ours.
We haven't shown at adoptions because we haven't had a solid health profile for him this past year. He's gotten to live uninterrupted at our house. I have selfishly gotten to pretend Max is ours, right alongside Conor and Sake.
So, when he started losing weight and the ultrasound tech relayed that he might have Lymphoma, I received the news like he was ours.
::listening to "sigur 3 (untitled)" by sigur ros::
Comments