While I was waiting to find the perfect dog, I decided to be a foster mom to this adorable puppy. I named her “Honey,” but I’m sure that her new owners will give her a new name. (I found out that she was adopted today! Yay! I’m so happy to hear that)
She was a sweetheart, but an absolute handful. She was five or six months, and a boxer mix. So she was a pretty large dog — to me, she was anyway. She was absolutely not potty trained, and the rescue shelter did not want me to crate train her. (Big mistake of mine even agreeing to foster her without crate training!) Because I had no experience with dogs or puppies at this point, I thought fostering would be a wonderful opportunity for me to learn how to take care of a dog… Which would have been fine, if I had been able to crate train Honey.
The rescue shelter (which shall be nameless) was owned by a very manipulative lady, who also did not tell me that Honey had fleas . . . or worms. She also had a spot on her back, which may have been mange. I was also not allowed to take Honey outdoors to go potty because she had no had all of her shots yet and “if I took her outside, she might get Parvo.”
Honey ended up pooping and peeing all over my apartment — my kitchen, living room, bedroom, closet, and even bed! And she had worms, so I had to vacuum and clean her feces very carefully to prevent Mr. Pumpkin to catching anything. My apartment became infested with fleas, so Mr. Pumpkin and I had to live with my boyfriend temporarily while I flea-bombed my home. It was a nightmarish experience…
You would think that after that experience, it would scare me from wanting a dog. But it didn’t. Despite Honey’s fleas and worms, she was simply the sweetest dog. She greeted you at the door, wanted to be near me at all times. She loved playing catch in the apartment. I simply loved having her company and being near her.
Returning her to the rescue shelter was one of the saddest things I’ve ever had to do. She sat in the car so patiently in the back seat, and my heart broke into a million pieces. As much as she did not fit into my lifestyle — she was simply too big — I still fell in love with her.
After that experience, I decided that I could no longer foster a dog. It’s simply too hard for me, being the animal lover that I am, to foster dogs. Giving them up is way too difficult.
It took me a month to recover from having honey with me every day. I missed her every day, and I will always miss her. But once I was finally recovered, the search for my perfect shih tzu began again.
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