August 19th, 2010: Mark the date.
Because, according to Mom, Abby had a red-letter day, and we are all supposed to be thrilled to pieces about it. One full week with no accidents (Side note: “accidents” is human speak for crapping in the house) and a few well-timed moments of good behavior and suddenly she is the center of the universe.
“She is really blossoming” Mom gossips to the neighbors.
On the phone with Grandma: “It’s so nice to see, Mom, I mean she is really blossoming.”
And with Tommy: “Ewww, isn’t it wonderful Honey, Abby seems to be just Blahhhsuuuuummmming.” (to get the full effect of my sarcasm- you have to say that last one in a high voice and a British accent)
God, she must have used that word 100 times in the last 2 days. If that’s not bad enough, they have started calling her Abba-dabba-do. All dogs know that once the nicknames come out- all past sins are forgiven and the humans become putty in your hands, even backwoods Abby, who sits there grinning: “How do you like me now-HA”
“Dare I say it” mom announces with a smile ”I believe she is ready to be listed as available for adoption”
My heart skips a beat-excuse me? Did I hear that correctly?
You know, when I squint my eyes really hard and tilt my head; I actually DO see that blossomy thing everyone is talking about.
Let’s get that adoption process started, shall we?
Soon after that epiphany, Mom and Tommy announce they are going to the beach for a week. I’ll be packed off to grandmas where she and I will wile away the days doing crossword puzzles in the sun, eating greenies (doggie crack- for you less informed) and having a generally marvelous time. I LOVE my Grandma. She heats my food in the microwave and lets me sleep under the covers.
But what to do with Abby we all wonder? Mom sends out a timid request for a foster sitter. She is still in that “looking for acceptance stage” and hates that folks might think she is irresponsible for going away. (I’ll spare you the “humans are stupid” speech this go round) Almost instantly Auntie M steps up to the plate with an offer to take old Abby girl for a week. We all breathe a sigh of relief.
Now my Auntie M is not to be confused with the standard issue Auntie Em. You know the one: the fat, grey haired, bun wearing woman, slopping hogs in a house dress and apron with Toto nipping at her heels. Mine is tall, pretty and blonde (think: Yowza!)
She is one of Mom’s rescue friends and has talents that rival the dog whisperer (I’m talking about Caesar Milan- try and stay with me people) Her house is a foster haven with a huge outdoor doggie play area, lots of toys and a pond (with fish). I’ve heard rumors that she even lets dogs swim in the pond, as long as they don’t eat the fish. She is a one-woman adoption machine and no problem is too much for her to handle. If dogs ran the world (which I truly believe we could- if we could just master that can opener thing), Auntie M would have a tall green statue erected in her honor, the placard would read: Give me your homeless, your abandoned, your non-housebroken masses. It would be against the law to pee on it.
But, I digress.
A week later mom returns to pick me up. She looks tan and rested and if I squint my eyes really hard and tilt my head- she looks thinner.
(Note to self: Send Jeanie an email about Mom’s possible weight loss- those “fat one” comments are starting to piss me off)
The three of us spend a glorious evening alone together and pick up Abby the next morning. Auntie M greets us at the door and announces that Abba-dabba-doo was a joy to have around and they will surely miss her. She is such a lovely dog.
And since she had some free time, she updated Abby’s online profile, created a Dogster page and added a video.
With a self important smirk, Abby shoots me a quiet “na na na booboo”
On the way home Abby delights in recounting the stories of her weeklong adventure: partying it up with Auntie M’s 7 dogs (yes, you heard me right, I said 7- some fosters, some hers) and how much cooler than me they were. I pretend to sleep for the rest of the drive.
Then Mom gets a phone call:
Abby has an adoption application!
Be still my beating heart! I owe you one Auntie M!