When it really hurts

When people find out I foster labs till they receive 'forever families' almost always they say, I can't do that. It would break my heart to lose them, I would grow attached or simply don't you want to keep them all?

In the end I answer the same. Every time.

Nope, it doesn't hurt. Not in the my heart is sad and I regret my decision kind of way. I view myself as a funnel to get them from one place to another, to help them become a bit more whole again.

Buddy arrived last Sunday morning.

Buddy ran away within 1 hour of being outside in the outdoor run I have fenced in. It took 8 neighbors to catch him and bring him back. I was crushed.

I am away from the house more than 12 hours a day with commuting and work, so I rely on the foster dogs to adapt to life outside, with Ginger in the fenced in area. It was clear Buddy couldn't do that. Day 2 he bolted out the front door and came back an hour later. That day was the day I went to work, Monday, and when I got home the dogsitter let me know that Buddy has torn his way out of the metal crate in the house (my only option).

Plan B. Plastic crate. Tuesday I come home to find blood all along the inside of the doorway of the crate, so much so it dripped on the floor. And I knew what I had to do. He wasn't safe or happy here and that's what it's all about. He's an incredible dog, so sweet, so kind, best one yet in temperment.

This morning I dropped Buddy off at his next temporary home. A kennel.

And that is when fostering really really hurts.... when you fail them. More than a few tears were shed as I drove away.

(many of you likely thought I was going to be writing about how referrals for my LID came out this week and how it passed me by. I can't write about it. I barely think about. When I do it hurts far too much.)