A puppy wasn’t part of the plan the first time or the second. I didn’t grow up with dogs, but sure, in my mind, I wanted one one day. We don’t have a yard, so that was the first excuse. We also had small children, but they were getting older, so that wasn’t holding much weight. When my kids were eleven and seven, without any idea or plan of getting a dog, my husband called me from the pet store. He and my daughter would often walk into the pet store to look at the fish and hamsters. One Saturday, they walked in during a foster event. My son and I were at home when my phone rang.
“Are you sitting down?” my husband asked. “I think I found our dog!” he said excitedly.
“I didn’t know we were looking for one.” I truly wasn’t following for the first few minutes.
He went on to explain that they had found this perfect, mellow puppy who was so sweet and that we didn’t have to commit, but would I agree to foster her for a few weeks to see if it was a fit? My first instinct, after the shock of this question, was to say no. I had just gotten out of the phase of raising small children. We had a good rhythm going, but if we threw a puppy in the mix, it would be like starting over in a way. They both seemed so attached. He had sent me photos, and the puppy was adorable. They both promised to share in the work required to train and raise a dog, so I agreed.
Our new adorable puppy, who was supposedly so mellow, was sick. She had parvo, which was why she was so chill. Hundreds of dollars later in vet visits and medication, she got healthy and hyper. By then, we were all in love, so we kept her and named her Hazel for her beautiful light eyes. We are all in love with her, but I am the one who ended up caring for her the most, so I am the alpha, and I am her person. On the hardest of days, I give her a walk and can’t help but smile when I see her ears flopping up and down. If I want to sit on the couch and read, she wants to curl up beside me. If I get up from writing at my desk, she comes running from wherever she is to see what I am going to do next.
At this moment in time, I understand what the Sandwich Generation is and the challenges that come with having aging parents and children you are raising at the same time. I live so far away from my parents, but they are now at the age where the distance between us makes me second-guess the decision I made in my early twenties to move so far away. I don’t regret my choices, and I love my life and where I live, but I wasn’t thinking about how hard it would be when my parents started to age. I was twenty-three; no one thinks that far in advance at that age.
My daughter just left to start college, and our home feels quieter, cleaner, and a little sadder. She is thriving and loving school, but I am mourning not having her home. When she was applying to all of her top-choice schools last spring, I worried that she might be disappointed by her number one choice, which she had her heart set on. The waiting was intense, and while I was at a friend’s house one afternoon, she showed me a photo of a puppy she was going to foster. I couldn’t understand how she always took in fosters when she could and was okay giving them up because it meant they went to a forever home. She was going to say yes to the puppy in the photo, but she had broken her wrist and wouldn’t be able to help. I wanted to help in some way, and an idea came to me. I could foster the puppy, and then if a rejection letter came in, there would be a puppy there to soften the blow. I ran the idea by my husband; this time, he was the one who needed convincing. We agreed we weren’t going to adopt a second dog, but if everyone were on the same page that it was temporary, he would be more open to it.
When I reached out about the puppy, the foster foundation let me know someone had already taken her. The person I spoke to said that if we were interested in another puppy, he would likely have more that needed fostering, and he would let me know. This gave me more time to talk to the kids and ask if they could agree to this, knowing we wouldn’t be keeping a puppy and the arrangement would be temporary. They both agreed and said they would be happier having a puppy for a short time rather than not at all.
Two days later, I got a text with another adorable puppy that was available. I said yes right away, but within the hour, he let me know that it wasn’t available. My whole point of fostering a puppy was to soften the blow of college rejections; meanwhile, we kept getting rejected by possible puppies. A little less than a week later, the college news was supposed to come in. We knew her top school was going to let her know by that Wednesday, and her second choice the next day. She had a whole day of distractions planned with her friends. At midday, she changed her mind about opening the news with them and came home to find out the news on her own.
She went into her room and opened the email and found out she was accepted to her number one choice. She was ecstatic.
The next day, she joined her friends again to open another school email together. She was already walking on clouds when she found out she got into her second choice, too. It was a wonderful twenty-four hours, followed by a text saying there was another puppy who needed a home and asking if we could foster it. I said a quick yes, given how little time I had last time. The next thing I knew, the representative from the foster foundation asked if he could deliver the puppy that night. When he arrived, he walked in with the tiniest little pup, who was closer in size to a hamster than a dog. He looked like a baby sea lion and was so shy. He became less of an emotional support dog and more of a celebration dog, but we were happy to have him regardless.
A few weeks later, when it came time to find him a home, our son had already asked countless times if we could keep him. My daughter did not want to see him go to some random family that wouldn’t allow us to see him. They decided to find an open adoption situation, and the two of them went door to door in our neighborhood asking if anyone was interested. They wanted to vet the people as well as make sure they could have visitation rights. We found two interested families that wanted him, but while we talked to them, one kid at a time disappeared upstairs into their rooms. When I went to check on them, they were both hysterically crying at the idea of losing the puppy to another family. Once more, we had a big family discussion. Everyone was on board to keep him except me. This time, I knew what was involved in raising a puppy, and I knew that caring for him would most likely fall on me.
After a long negotiation, I agreed, and we have a new addition to the family, Enzo. His whole name is Lorenzo Patata, but we call him Enzo. I was the last one to fall in love with him, but once I did, I fell hard. He is now the emotional support dog he was intended to be, and he is helping with my daughter. Not directly with her, but he is helping me now that she isn’t living at home anymore. He fills the house with more love, and now when I get sad, I have four furry ears to watch flopping around.
