My husband said, “Sometimes life throws you curve balls.” But sometimes life doesn’t do the throwing; you do.
I went to the Flemington Pet Valu Saturday to speak with Linda, one of the co-founders of the rescue group that saved Galen, about my pup’s early days in North Carolina and her transport north. Linda is so busy with her day job and the rescue that I’ve found the only way to communicate with her is to corner her at the pet store—she’s there most weekends trying to adopt out her dogs and cats. This time Kevin and the girls came with me.
When we arrived, volunteers were lowering six of the cutest, cuddliest, beige pups you’ve ever seen into a pen on the sidewalk outside the store. The pups were eight weeks old and looked like some type of golden retriever mix; their mom – a jack russell – was also rescued, so at least part of their heritage is known. I heard one young guy, probably in his late twenties, say to his friend, “They are genetically designed to make you go goo-goo ga-ga.”
I had never met Buff, who, with Linda, co-founded Catnip Friends Cats Rescue, but Buff was also at PetValu Saturday. I’d hit the reporter’s jackpot: two sources poised to answer my myriad questions. I grabbed pen and paper and left my family to go ga-ga over the pups.
But Kevin and the girls did more than ogle puppies; they volunteered to walk a five-month-old dog named Loki, who had been passed over for adoption three weeks straight. Figuring out Loki’s breed is a challenge. Gaston County Animal Control in North Carolina deemed him a husky, but there is no way that Loki has even an ounce of husky in him. He looks more mutt than either Galen or Gryffin. During the following two hours, my family bonded with little Loki.
After my first visit to the pet store some weeks ago, I started toying with the idea of our becoming a foster family to one of Catnip’s dogs. I mentioned the possibility to Kevin. We agreed this summer, when I had time off from my job as a college professor, we would seriously consider it.
Somehow summer became Saturday, fostering became possibly adopting, and Loki came home with us.
I say Kevin threw the curve ball; perhaps I did by allowing Loki to come home with us. Either way, ball thrown.
Loki, as seen on Petfinder.com