Breaking the Mould

As fosters go, this one is breaking the mould. First of all, she is not skin and bones. Wow, who thought that would ever happen?  Her name is Jessie, but she could just as easily be called Holstein, Heifer, or Jersey.  I say that in the nicest possible way. She didn't go hungry in her other life.  

Also, the is the first foster to arrive to us in heat.  Wow, who thought that would ever happen?  Well, I guess we kept fostering and the odds finally caught up with us. At least she's neat about it. And that is all I'm going to say about that!  

I do wonder, everyday when I get home, if there will be a menagerie of horny dogs waiting on the porch.  I could see at lab, a rottie, a yorkie, a bassett and a couple randy chihuhua's all looking expectantly at the door.  Or maybe they are camping out in a Winnebago behind the back fence.  Draw lots for dibs on her.  Frankly I don't think she'd be receptive.  But, what do I know.  

She is also the first one not interested in kibble.  But, my sandwich at lunch the other day?  Wow, do not turn your back for a second.  My guess is she was fed table scraps.  She must be disappointed we don't share many of them.  No doubt you heard her cry of indignation.  Stingy foster home, what is the crap they are feeding me.  Geesh!

All of them are different, just as we are.  They bring their baggage, just like we do. And sometimes they break the mold.  When they do everything changes in my doggy dog world.