Dear Love of My Life,
Where are you? It's been four years, and I'm still waiting.
Don't get me wrong, I like my foster family an awful lot. I have doggie brothers and sisters, kitties to play with, and even birds! Birds are weird. And my Foster Dad plays tug-o-war with me until his arms are ready to fall off. He lets me up on the furniture, too, even though Foster Mom says it's bad. Foster Mom is nice, too. She taught me “clicker training.” Clicker training is where there's a click, and then I get a treat! Well, I have to do something to get a click, but the click and the treat are the important part. My favorite is cheese. I know lots of ways to get clicked: I can “sit” and “down” and “shake” and “ask nice” and “roll over” and “not-walk-like-a-lunatic.” I even let Foster Mom trim my toe nails so long as there are clicks involved.
So it's not all bad here. But I can't wait to come live with you, Love of My Life. I hope we can go for lots of walks. And car rides. I love car rides, 'specially when I get to meet new people and dogs. Sometimes, I get so excited to meet other dogs that I make a gosh-darn fool of myself, but I promise I'll try to be good if you'll help me. Foster Mom says I have courage for brains, and it must be true because if you're looking for someone to run into burning buildings and rescue small children, I'm your girl. I'd like to have a job to do, like maybe those drug dogs on TV, or even rally or tracking like the other dogs here. (I wonder – do you have dogs already? I'd love to have a real brother or sister.) I might even eat a burglar for you . . . well, probably not because you never know who might have cheese. But I'll try to look really intimidating until the burglar offers me belly scratches, okay? I also like to swim and to jog and to lay in the sun and do nothing at all. Please can you come get me so we can do everything and nothing together?
Photo by Tara Engle Photography