I didn’t think it would have to worry about it happening for a REALLY long time.
I was chatting with President Pam who said “We need some photos of Bobbi for the website.”
Photos? SURE! No problem! I got photos! Bobbi is beyond beautiful but who was going to adopt a dog who was just-barely-not feral? I didn’t have a thing in the world to worry about. Bobbi would be with me for a good long time at the least, and potentially indefinitely at best. All I needed to do to fulfill my foster responsibility would be to send some photos and I would have not to think about what I would do if there was a family who wanted to adopt her for quite a while.
A couple days later, I was scrolling through Facebook and there they were. Bobbi’s photos. On the DRSF feed. The photos I took. In our living room. On our patio. On my bed. Where Bobbi lives. Where she learned to feel safe. Where together we celebrated each new first that she achieved in the year since she was rescued – BIG firsts – like sitting on the couch long enough and getting close enough to take her picture. Those were our private moments that I was dumb enought to share and now here they were on the DRSF feed, for the whole world to see…. What the hell had I been thinking???
Even in the last 30 days, Bobbi’s personality had begun to come out even more – she sunned herself on the patio. She slept with her belly up on the couch like she was the one paying the mortgage. She ran laps outside and was starting to learn to play. I was just getting to the best part of Bobbi and now, here she was, all out there, on our feed, making it look like she was in need of a family.
I had been punched in the gut. I was righteously indignant. Bobbi doesn’t need a family! I am her family. Good God she is not even hardly adoptable. And then, just in that initial gut punch wasn’t bad enough,….Next, I saw how many people had seen Bobbi’s post and how many comments were under it. Twenty-seven-thousand-frigging people had seen that post with nearly 50 people saying how beautiful she was and how they knew her perfect family was out there.
I felt the panic well up that my secret was out. Literally. I was the only one who actually “saw” Bobbi as she ran and hid when anyone else was here. My Mom and Sisters had only laid eyes on her as a black and white blur and even Pam didn’t even get to see her when she was here and now I had sent her photos off, like it was no big deal, for everyone and their brother to see her.
It was just Bobbi and I from the beginning. Just us.
Bobbi was not one of the original 15 dogs we welcomed to DRSF after they arrived at Miami Dade Animal Services after being rescued from that hoarding house with 97 dogs in it on June 9, 2019. Bobbi was somehow deemed “adoptable” upon arriving at the shelter, and was placed on the floor, where she was adopted out, and then returned two weeks later after she had cowered in terror under the bed and wouldn’t eat anything the entire time.
When she was surrendered back to the shelter, Bobbi was technically an owner surrender which made her changes even less likely to get out of the shelter alive. We saw her come back in and decided that we couldn’t let her be euthanized when she was so close to having her chance, and that 16 non-dachshund hoarder dogs wasn’t that much different from 15 non-dachshund hoarder dogs, so Bobbi came to DRSF and came right to me after she had been sprung and vetted. And from that day forward, I was on a mission to do everything I could to help her.
And now, here we were, just about one year later, having come so far, but having so much further to go and her photos all out there saying she was looking for a family. Everyone gushed about how beautiful she was (they are G-d damned right she was beautiful but I didn’t need them to tell me that….), cheering her on for how far she had come and that they knew her perfect forever family was out there.
WTH???? Why had I agreed to this? Why did I send the good photos? Why didn’t I take some crappy posed shots instead of sharing photos of our milestones to show how amazing she really was?
I caught my breath and poured a glass of wine. It was fine. I was fine. We were fine. I had been doing this for 10 years…how many times did we share special needs dogs photos and all the people commented all the comments about how beautiful they were and how they would take them if they were closer, blah, blah, blah, and then crickets on an actual application.
This would blow over. I drank my wine and started to fancy myself pretty strategic – I was a good foster. I had sent the photos and I had checked the box. Everyone would say Bobbi was beautiful, no apps would come in, it would fade from the radar, and I wouldn’t have to worry about it again for at least a couple months.
My heart rate slowly returned to normal. And then I got a text from Pam. “Look in the DM’s on the DRSF page”. I clicked over and my heart was instantly in my throat. The thing I wanted the most for Bobbi and the thing I wanted the least for Bobbi was sitting there in our DM’s.
A family wanted Bobbi.
They had adopted one of the other hoarding survivors.
Who had been traumatized.
And they had stood by her and loved her through it.
And their Toni looked just like Bobbi.
And they wanted to adopt Bobbi.
The next few days were a blur and I prayed something would derail this seemingly miraculous happy ending so that I could avoid what I knew was coming.
I talked with Bobbi’s potential Forever Mom. She was beyond lovely. They had already rescued one hoarding survivor and were randomly scrolling through Facebook and saw Bobbi and they couldn’t believe their eyes. They wanted Toni to have a sister, quite possibly her ACTUAL sister, and knew they could love another dog through the same process.
It was too perfect. It was too late to say anything. I didn’t want to be the flaky foster who doesn’t speak up that they want to adopt the dog until after they have talked to the applicants. I wanted her to stay forever, but I knew in my heart that I wasn’t Bobbi’s Forever Mom. I was Bobbi’s Foster Mom and I owed it to Bobbi to let her have her happily ever after. She deserved to be with a family that chose her, not someone who got backed into a corner and had to make a decision. To honor Bobbi, I had to let her go.
And so, before I knew what was happening Bobbi’s Mom and Dad were standing in my living room doing a socially distanced adoption, with Bobbi in a crate, and then she was gone.
And my heart was broken.
She had been scared. She had known something was up. I let strangers carry her out the door in a crate.
I am not a crier. I cried. Did I do the right thing?
I had to trust the process. I had to trust Karma. I had to believe that sometimes things line up in such a way that after being in foster care for a year and never being posted, less than 4 hours after Bobbi was posted, a family who didn’t even know she existed was randomly scrolling their feed and saw their beloved Toni’s twin scroll by just as they had moved to be able to have a bigger place to have another dog. A family who knew Bobbi’s story and had navigated it once and had enough love to do it again.
It had to be good. She had to be ok.
I watched my phone for an update. I watched me phone for a message from Mona, saying that the whole thing had gone to hell in less than 24 hours and they wanted to bring her back. I watched my phone for a message from Bobbi’s family – good or bad. Was she hiding under the bed, terrified as she had been when she got to our house, or was she ok? I tried not to think about it as I teared up every time I did.
And then Pam called. Bobbi’s family had sent a “happy tales” photo. Was I ok to see it? Did I have a rusty razor blade in my hand?
And then there it was….all 4 of them….Bobbi’s Mom and Dad, Toni, and Bobbi- in her Mom’s arms. My arms had only held Bobbi just a few times, and there she was in her New Mom’s arms less than 48 hours after joining their family.
My worry had been for naught. My heart was still broken, but the process worked. Karma is good. It was fine. It was totally fine. I breathed a sigh of relief. She was more than ok…..She looked happy.
I have had two long term fosters cross the bridge and adopted one out in the span of 6 weeks. This is what rescue does. Rescue makes the impossible possible thanks to the power of love, generosity and karma. Rescue cries in a heap when we need to and then takes what we learned and keeps going because there are more out there who need us….. Bobbi will always have a place in my heart, but she did as much for me as I did for her, and now, thanks to her, I am that much better prepared to help the next Bobbi who is out there and needs her spot.
