Walt and I went out to see a play tonight (oddly enough) and as we pulled into the driveway there was the familiar high pitched, demanding yapping at the front door.
I opened the door and stepped inside and, as she always does, Polly was there scolding me for leaving and demanding she get "I'm home" her treat now!
I went into the kitchen and got treats for everyone. Polly danced on her hind legs until it was her turn and then snatched the treat from my hand and quickly looked at Shiloh to see if maybe she could steal a bit of his treat too. Polly is nothing if not food-obsessed.
This is a scene that is repeated every time I leave the house and then return. I roll my eyes when we come up the driveway and I hear her yapping (and I hope she hasn't been doing it outside while I've been gone!), I sigh in resignation as Polly leaps at the back of my legs with each step all the way down the hall, and I let out an "oh...Polly!" as she continues to bark while I fumble with the container that has the dog treats.
But tonight was different. There was a bittersweet overtone to it all, for, you see, Polly may finally have a forever home awaiting her tomorrow.
It's kind of an "I've heard this one before" in my head right now, but I have been told that someone with another very nervous chihuhua (and a third, larger dog) has expressed interest in this little girl.
When I read the news, my first reaction was a clutching in my stomach and tears coming to my eyes. Polly has been here for >10 months now, we are inseparable (at least in her mind) and I love how she curls in my armpit when I settle down to go to sleep. Now that Buttercup is gone, she and Shiloh have become BFFs again and they were do cute today, chasing each other up and down the hallway. There are wonderful things about this little dog, especially how much she seems to love me.
But then I remembered the irate phone call from the cranky neighbor when we returned from Washington, complaining about Polly's barking. I think about the angry yapping when I come home. I think about the nails constantly pawing at the back of my knees whenever I walk anywhere, the whining at the bathroom door when I take 3 minutes to myself. And I think that maybe it will be nice to be without her for awhile.
I also think back on "the special ones" that have brought tears to my eyes when I had to turn them over to forever homes and realize that they are better off, I am better off, and the whole reason I do this is to help these little guys find homes of their own, not to collect all the ones that tug at my heart strings.
So I've become philosophical about it all--if it's meant to be, her new forever home will be waiting for her at Petco tomorrow and we will take a deep breath and turn her over to a person who will have to spend a lot of time bonding with her. And if this isn't to be her forever home, she will come back to our house and we will wait again.
If we're really lucky, this person will fall in love with Shiloh too. He really has the better personality anyway. But let's not hope for miracles.
I'm thinking that maybe we'll take a little break from fostering, after these two guys go, until the next batch of orphaned puppies, who need bottle feeding, come along. I don't know how I could resist another batch of bottle-feeding puppies.
But we've been doing this fostering pretty much non-stop for about five years now and it would be nice to take a little break and let Sheila and Lizzie know that they really are top dogs around here and aren't going to be sent away anywhere.
First, however, we have to see how this business with Polly goes. I'm crossing my fingers--and I haven't decided if I'm crossing them, hoping she finds a home finally, or that she doesn't find a home finally!!
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