About 3 weeks ago, I adopted this permanent puppy face from a wonderful foster mom (Emily Hollida) on October, 6, 2012. The heart-warming moment was only overcome by the heart-wrenching struggle for this little guy's savior, who had been able to rescue him not only from a hoarding, suspected abusive situation, but from being euthanized in an animal control facility. Poor guy was basically feral when he fell in to Emily's lap, but she was able to come such a long way with him and get him on his feet for a better outcome in life. And after loving him and working him through so much, she was giving him to me.
This would be my first time adopting an animal, but it isn't my first time stumbling across something with a greater need for love and care than most. This oddball mix that looks oddly like a Dachshund that cross bred with a Retriever or Spaniel (or maybe he's just an alien, I hear they're tiny) would not even dare to eat around me for the first week after his initial pull from his Foster Mom. He barely ventured from the two safe-zones he scoped out during his first night. His first and most private spot: my room. Obviously, because anyone that's seen it will admit it's awesomeness. His second happened to be a secluded corner in the living room. Less awesome, but there's a computer chair blocking about a sliver of his view of people. Awesome.
Amber eyes wide, eyebrows upturned in constant worry and a mouth that opened, but never made a sound had me wondering how long it might take for him to even make a step towards gaining some semblance of dog-hood. But that thought was like wondering how long it would take me, an arguably grown-up 22 year old, to reach her maturity in adult-hood. In short: thinking about it is pointless. I hold reason to believe the aforementioned will never occur. Much to my surprise though, Finn began sticking to me like glue after the first two days. And he hasn't let go since..aside from the occasional break-apart when he forced me to watch from a distance as he retched up a smorgasbord of garishly yellow, semi-digested success. The days he performs such a task have a curious pattern of which I've yet to recognize.
You would think two abnormalities in one household is enough, but my cat, Artemis and my two goofy parents that I'm devout on 'taking care of' (teasing, pestering, whatever you want to call it) in their old age only augment the insanity involved in such a small enclosed space. I've had many reasons and opportunities to write about the given aberrations that I have been continually blessed with, but haven't decided to put thoughts in to words as I do now.
Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't fancy writing about my family (blogging, no less). Neither would I consider engrossing upon details about an animal I own. After all, I've owned many. But circumstances with me involved are rarely ever normal. And my new addition, Finn, is no exception. I expect many ups and downs with this boy that was equipped with absolutely no coping mechanisms of any kind. Some humorous, as I've already witnessed, and some...less humorous, as I have also witnessed.
To finish up what I expected to be a quick introduction that turned in to a lofty monologue, I don't regret adopting Finn for one minute. Another basket case has been branded in to the Russell family *creepy grin*.
Welcome home, Finn.
Curious about Finn's beginning? Check out Em's story here:
http://animalsmakeushuman28.blogspot.com/2012/08/adventures-in-fostering-day-1.html
No comments:
Post a Comment