Wednesday, May 28, 2008

You Think I Need a Brother?

Well it’s official. I am no longer the sole king of my domain. Nope. No more. It seems that Dads have decided that a permanent home for our "foster" dog is what is best. Goodbye to the chewy treat section that was once all mine. Goodbye to jumping into that king size bed without being pummeled by 50 pounds of hound dog. Goodbye to hiding out under the backyard deck by myself. And, goodbye to the walks around the hood that were once very short on orders and corrections.

Our lovely home now welcomes Foster. That's right, Foster. Dad tells me he's named after his maternal grandfather. I like to think it's because he was a foster dog so long, it just took. I can certainly see him being shifted from home to home.

OK OK. So I was once that dog in front of the Petsmart, needing a home just like my new brother. Certainly I saw myself as cuter, more loveable, well behaved and memorable (yes, Dad left after our first meeting and then five miles down the road said "I want that pup!!" and raced back to adopt me). But I would be lying if I told you I didn't have a soft spot in my heart for this big lug. Sure, he plays rougher than most dogs(already kicked out of the dog park once) and has on more than one occasion brought blood to my pretty little face (I took out his ankle during the last bout and he didn’t walk right for a day!). And sure, when he jumps in excitement when Dads come home his head almost hits the ceiling. And yes, he tends to run my precious little self over when needing to get outside for a quick run to god knows where.

But he's now my brother and I love him. Come to think of it, he's not near as bad as some humans. Lord knows I've witnessed my Dads' phone conversations and the drama from some of their siblings and families make Foster look tame. But this new sibling has allowed me to reflect upon what is most important in my life. A good family, Dads that love and take care of me, places to run and play, food and water that ALL dogs deserve and most important -- having more intellect in the tiny spot on my ear than Foster has in his entire head.

So as I do each posting, I must speak for those four-legged friends who cannot speak. Give the Foster’s of the world a good home. Overlook their sloppy leg hiking, the water that drips from their mouths for what seems to be hours after quenching their thirst, the paw prints that will overtake every window in your house and the escapes from the yard that last hours. Overlook all of this and give them a home. And please please, support the ASPCA and their fight to keep the Arlie Rufus' and Foster’s free from abuse and cruelty.

Welcome Home Foster!!

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