Sometimes fate demands attention, and sometimes we can only experience it and wonder.
I volunteer with a couple of dog rescue organizations... mostly it has come down to transporting. I received an email in June begging for fosters, because one of the rescues was absolutely overrun. At the time I had three dogs, one quite aged and needing some extra accommodation... however, I called my contact and said I would rather foster a dog than have one euthanized. She asked what I was looking for, and I told her whatever dog needed me most, that's the one I would foster. I also told her I wasn't in a position to adopt. She recommended a couple for consideration. Again, I said it would be the one that needed it most. The answer was Dahlia, a setter mix with a big black spot over one eye. The second dog was an Irish Setter who my contact said might be a little too much. An Irish that had been rescued by an English Setter rescue organization... pretty unusual.
Two days later my contact called me back, telling me that they thought they had an adopter for Dahlia. Would I be interested in the runner up?
A little aside here: I love Irish Setters. The three I had at home were Irish. Left to my own devices, I would always choose Irish. But I was fostering, not adopting, so I went with the one that needed me most. And in between agreeing to fostering this little Irish lass and when she arrived at my doorstep, my aged Irish, Riley, finally succumbed to his 16 years. There was a hole in the little world that my other dogs and I had.
Anyway, I said yes to the "wild" Irish puppy, named Koko, who arrived in Michigan from South Carolina on Saturday, July 23. What showed up at my doorstep was anything but a wild Irish puppy. She is perfect. She is playful but respectful. She speaks fluent "dog." She is loving. She is not destructive. She quickly became best friends with my really wild girl, Rowan. She is simply perfect.
I think I will name her Tully O'Toole. I think she's going nowhere.
Funny how fate works.
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