Why we are terrible foster parents

I got an email this week that I was not prepared for. Here’s the troubling line…

“Also, we met with an adopter today and Marianne was wondering if Kiyana would be a fit for them.”

<<Willow’s petfinder pic

Kiyanna, known in this house as Willow, is our foster. You can go back and read more about her in previous posts, but let it suffice to say that when we took her in, we really didn’t expect someone else to want her. That’s a bit mean, I know, but how many people are interested in a 3-legged, overweight, geriatric dog? I mean, other than us. Well apparently someone else thought they might be a good fit for this tragic case. So at the receipt of this message, there was some serious conversation taking place in Chateau Kittelson-McFee. We took her in as a foster, temporary, and planned only to rehabilitate her and get her ready to be a part of someone’s family. But let’s be honest, we really didn’t think she stood a chance of being adopted. We went back and forth. Letting someone else take her would open a space in our house for another dog that desperately needed a place to stay. But in the past two months, she had made such great progress, not only on her weight, but coming out of her shell and beginning to interact with the other dogs and with Heather and myself.

So, what to do?

Read more after the jump.

It was a long discussion. We went back and forth many times. We sat down with Willow to see if she had any input. She rolled over and asked for belly rubs.

That pretty much sealed the deal.

So, this is now the forever home to one more… and then there were four, and we are officially the worst “foster” in the system. And very happy about it.

<<latest addition to the permanent pack

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