Thursday, November 15, 2012
Ziggy Learns He is Adopted!
Zigg, here. One day Mary and I went to a store where dogs could go inside. The best thing—the store had hundreds of squeaky toys. But I was not allowed to drool on them. Mary had tied a blue scarf around my neck. There were many dogs my size, who looked a lot like me, only in different colors. We were all cocker spaniels named Foster. We each brought our own person to the store, and we all wore blue scarves. Some dogs went home with a new person. I was not friendly to anybody but Mary. It was an adoption show.
Adoption shows are for dogs who are looking for forever homes. I am not looking anymore. I am here, and I am happy. I can’t imagine chewing anyone else’s shoes. When we came home that evening I was lying across Mary's and Bill's laps before dinner, and they talked about adoption.
I learned something terrible—I was not adopted. Mary thought I was too young for them. Bill scratched my tummy and said that they should adopt me anyway. Mary said that all their other fosters have gone to good homes, more appropriate homes than this one would have been. Bill asked whose home could possibly be more appropriate for an active, destructive puppy who loathes children? Mary laughed. It is good when Mary laughs…it means no one is in trouble.
We went back to the dog store. Mary and Bill gave some pieces of paper to Marilyn. And I got a new harness. And a new piece of metal with my name on it. Now my name is not Foster. I am adopted! To celebrate Mary and Bill had a bottle of French wine from the basement. I had a 1996 Lands’ End fuzzy slipper from under the bed.