What’s that saying about ‘the best laid plans’?
Thursday 5 August
Having spent the week preparing for the arrival of our foster dog (FD) I was feeling nervous but ready as OH and I sat down to dinner. “Right, run me through the plan one more time.” He’d said. It went something like this:
- Pick up Lab Rescue co-ordinator at 7pm.
- Drive half an hour to get to the pick up point and collect FD.
- Stop at the large field opposite the house on the way home to let her stretch her legs.
- OH to stay with FD while I nip home to pick up Little Bear and bring him back to the field so that they can meet on neutral ground and get acquainted.
- Sniff sniff, wag, wag and then all home for supper before settling down for the night.
I didn’t expect it all to go to plan (we’re dealing with dogs after all) but I felt as though I’d covered all of the angles. I had contingency plans for goodness sake. As I remember, our main concern was whether the baby gate we’d set up to section off a sleeping area for her in our en-suite would be high enough to stop her launching herself onto our bed in the middle of the night. That and my nagging irritation at not being able to find a car harness for her like the one LB has. After a fruitless tour of pet shops and online stores I resolved to try to order her one from our local pet shop on the Friday. Little did I know then how crucial that decision would be…
The meeting
Having been described as a ‘big bouncy girl’ I was shocked to see the timid looking creature that almost tumbled out of the car at the collection point. Big yes, but she looked as if she’d rather melt into the pavement rather than bounce. Her tail was so tucked I had no idea even how long it was.
It took some persuasion to get her into the back of our car. OH suggested that I get in one side and encourage her in that way. It worked brilliantly – I called her name and she leapt in beside me but sort of crouched – neither sitting nor standing, just hovering next to me as if she already regretted her decision.
As we drove the forty miles home she slowly began to relax until she lay panting next to me. I stroked her gently and just ten minutes from home she had her two front paws hooked over my thigh and her head resting gingerly on my knee. I studied her. A chunky lab, she had a post puppy belly and more than a few spare tyres bless her. Her coat looked as though it had been a long time since she’d been brushed and as I raked my fingers through her red fox fur I found grit and flea bits held in place with a waxy residue. She looked up at me with the gentlest, but most anxious eyes I’ve ever seen. “You’re going to enjoy staying with us,” I said confidently “We’re going to take great care of you and you’ll soon have a lovely shiny coat again.”
Ten minutes later she was running terrified and collarless towards a busy road…
Wait…you cannot stop there! Tell me that she is ok and is happy to be at a new home!
LikeLike
Sorry, didn’t mean to write a cliff hanger, fell asleep doing post 2! It has a happy ending I promise – I wouldn’t do that to you!! 🙂
Sent from my iPhone
LikeLike
Whew! I just know this story is going to have a “and they all lived happily ever after” ending.
LikeLike
Fingers crossed!!
LikeLike
[…] The guilt I felt was overwhelmed only by the desire to find her. My most important job was to keep her safe but just an hour after meeting me and just minutes after she found the courage to edge her way along the back seat of the car to rest her head tentatively in my lap, she was lost in a strange place, dodging traffic as the sun slipped out of the sky. I’ve never in my life seen a dog look so scared and hope I never do again. (Read the full story here) […]
LikeLike