Fur The Love of Fostering

My very first foster adoption is the beautiful girl in the picture for this post. Her name was Jamie but later changed to Beyza by her adopter.

Adoption day is one of the most exciting and saddest days for a foster parent. So many emotions transpire leading up to the day and when the day is finally arrived, all those emotions spill over in abundance. We tell ourselves it will be OK, they will be OK, we will be OK but in truth…. we are not OK. Letting go doesn’t get easier, learning how to identify and process the emotions quicker does.

My phone rang with an unknown number so of course I didn’t answer and let it go to voicemail. The voicemail sound pinged and I touched the icon for it to play on my phone. I remember hearing puppies, need fosters, can you help but didn’t finish the voicemail and called the number immediately. So much excitement, I was barely able to breathe while waiting for them to pick up. The puppies were coming up on the weekend from transport and would be ready for me same day. Oh, the squeek of joy I let out when i hung up the phone! I was thrilled to be able to help with puppies!

The day finally came. Transport was successful, the puppies were offloaded into kennels, given a once over inspection and I was pulling onto the gravel driveway to meet my first foster. As the tires crunched over the gravel and I neared the designated parking area, I became suddenly insecure in if I was really ready for this. Was my house really puppy proof? Am I really ready to deal with pee and poo accidents? Did I effectively hide ALL the cords in case one was a chewer? Oh snap, what if they destroy the legs on my beloved table!? And just like that I became unsure, hesitant and then ashamed that I would feel that way. What kind of person would think of backing out when they made a commitment to help a creature because of table legs? The answer is, experiencing feelings does not make me a bad person, it makes me human and I needed to stop thinking higher of myself while accepting its OK to have those feelings. My choice is what defines me in this moment, not my feelings, and I chose to help. The table really is too big for the dining room anyway so to splinters with its legs!

I exited my car with renewed perspective and determination but fearful that the staff with all their experience and knowledge would take one look at me, be able to smell my insecurities, know what I had just been feeling and deny me as a foster. Irrational right? SO many feels! I was instantly greeted by one of the staff with the warmest of smiles. I swear I thought she was going to try to hug me and I was prepared for that if she decided.

She led me into the main kennel area and I remember looking all the puppies for the first time behind the grey wire of the kennel. Their little puppy bodies with over sized paws and the most hopeful eyes. There was an instant attachment to every single one, urge to provide every ounce of my attention to all and the need to somehow protect each and every one from ever experiencing any hurt or harm. These were my shelter’s fosters, we were responsible and nothing bad was ever going to happen to them while they were in our care. And just like that, I was officially a part of the foster team not just on paper, no backing out, no saying no.

The funny thing about fostering, you go to pick up a fuzzy with the intention of just that fuzzy but a lot of times one becomes two. It didn’t take a lot of convincing. I mean come on, anyone who knows me knows I’m a sucker for a fuzzy and two is better than one. That’s the old commercial right? I’m just doing what society taught me. *smiles to self*

Upon arriving home, the puppies were introduced to our resident dogs and everyone did amazing. It was a beautiful day outside so we ensured to bath the puppies, give them a brush, trim their nails and condition their pads to try to start the process of ensuring they were used to daily care. Every day after we continued to ensure we played with their paws, started basic commands and gave them as much love as we could.

When Jamie’s first application came in, I was elated. Over the moon excited for her first potential adopter. We set up a meeting and they took their time getting to know each other as all good partnerships do. I tried my best to offer all the known information, ensure she knew Jamie’s preferences and not creep her out by how excited I was. I’m not sure I succeeded on that last part to be honest. It wasn’t long before Jamie and her potential adopter decided they were a match!

Driving Jamie to the shelter for my first successful foster adoption and her forever home is where all the feels started to really kick into overdrive. I started questioning myself. Did I do all I could do to ensure a successful partnership with her adopter? What if her adopter changes her mind? What if she returns Jamie? I should just keep her. What if Jamie is with her adopter but she needs more and I am not there to help? Letting go can be the most joyous and simultaneously painful experience. I was so proud of our little Jamie for doing so well and not being able to see that continue hurt my heart to all new levels. But it was too late, she was being adopted and I should be more happy. Right?

Jamie was adopted and had left with her new mom. I was in my car at the shelter in my parking spot on the gravel with the engine on, AC blowing and putting my sun shades on. It was a sunny day but I wasn’t hiding from the sun. The driver’s manual states that you should not drive in an emotional state. So, I didn’t drive yet. The tears kept coming, my eye sockets hurt so much, my sinuses needed blowing (where were the napkins I pilfer from fast food restaurants and keep in my glove compartment when I needed them?!) and my chest physically had pain from holding in the sob fest that was a single dog hair’s weight from letting loose. How could such a joyous event cause me so much pain? And why would I ever do it again?

Later I got a text from Jamie’s new mom. She was at the pet store picking out items for her new companion and wanted to ensure she had the correct food type. Instant relief. All the fear, anxiety and reservation melted away from my inner being like I was in a shower with the warm water running from the top of my head, through my hair, down my back, on to my legs and finally feet. Jaime was going to be just fine and what is even better, she has an amazing mom who loves her and is going to care for her in ways I never could.

This was just my first foster adoption experience and through the course of many more, it has become a tradition as a way to help identify and process the emotions, my husband and I now celebrate our sadness with a shot followed by a beer and allow ourselves to shed the tears that need to be shed. It is OK to be human.