We’d been through a lot, that sweet girl and I. I remember the day I picked her up from the transport – she was so sick and malnourished. She felt too bad even be scared.

I gathered her paperwork, said good-bye and thank you to the other volunteer who transported her to me. I got in the car and called my vet. “Doc, I have a sick dog that needs help now.”

Bless my vet’s heart. She squeezed us in that busy day. The vet tech helped me get my new foster into the exam room – she could barely stand. Exam complete, meds dispensed, we headed home.

That weekend I slept in the dog room with my foster girl. I hand fed her, made sure she got fluids and fretted. Through out the weekend I talked with my vet several times. It was touch and go.

Spring was in the air and my sweet girl began healing. And eating. She was eating a lot. I put it off to being malnourished and her fearful that she wouldn’t have enough to eat. Wrong. My sweet girl had been used for breeding before she was abandoned. My sweet girl was pregnant.

Puppies?! Yes, we had puppies that summer. We loved those pups, along with my own pack and other fosters that happened to be staying with us at the time. When it was time we said good-bye to all but one of the pups. I couldn’t let all of them go, now could I?!

My sweet momma dog stayed with us a little longer, waiting for the right home. As a special needs dog – she was deaf and visually impaired – sometimes finding “home” takes a little longer.

The day arrived – cold, cloudy, and rainy. She had been with us seven months. We had been through a lot together. Now it was time for her to go home. I drove down the freeway, tears slipping down my cheeks sometimes. It was one of those bittersweet days.

I had met her new family previously, through rescue work. We had talked on the phone and exchanged emails. This was the perfect home for my girl. She hopped into her new car and onto her new memory foam dog bed that filled the back of the SUV.

I said good-bye. They left. I sat in my car and cried. Good-bye, my sweet girl…enjoy your new life.

I still keep in touch with her family. Every morning she gets jam and toast with her mom and dad (after healthy kibble, of course!). She has a canine buddy to keep her company. She’s healthy and happy. She’s home. What more could I want for my foster dogs? Nothing.

Bittersweet days…they are part of fostering. Bittersweet days mean success, well done, task complete – another canine has found his or her human. Bittersweet days mean I have an open space in my home and my heart for another abandoned canine.