This evening I took our foster "puppy" Hershey on that all-too-familiar ride to his new home. He was restless on the drive over, as though he knew something was up, because his crate was in the car for his new mom and dad to borrow.Once we got there he was pure unadulterated Hershey. He immediately started to play with his new sister Sadie, and tried to play with his new older sister Jessie. Like the true older sister she sat quietly watching them, and occassionally voiced her disapproval at their rowdy play.
In the short time I was there, Hershey had found every rawhide in the toybox, pulled the stuffing out of one toy, and had a game of tug-of-war with Sadie. He also showed his -ahem- "affection" for her. (Get over yourself, Hershey, you're neutered!)
Ruth and Marc, his new mom and dad, took it all in stride, laughed at him, and corrected him. I'm comfortable that they're going to do just fine with this little ruffian.
In the time I've known and fostered Hershey, he's more than tripled in size. At nine months old, he's just a shade under 75 pounds. He'll probably push 90 or 100 by the time he's done growing.
When I left, I didn't look back to see if he was following me. I imagine tonight he'll be confused and wonder why I sent him away. I hope he will somehow know that Jim and I did the best we could for him, we helped him learn, we gave him a safe place and all the love in our hearts. And now we have turned his life over to Ruth and Marc, and they will give him more love and attention than we could.Still tonight I will lie awake and sob, hoping that my heart will come to understand what my brain already knows... that this is the right thing, the best thing for him, and his life just became infinitely better because two people liked him enough to adopt him, and will love and care for him for the rest of his life.
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