Day 4
She eats breakfast! The other dogs are outside, so Tulip and I lie down on the couch, stomach to stomach, her head on my chest, for just a minute. Or two and a half hours. Whoa. I guess we’re both worn out. That’s fine, since she’s going to have to stay calm for the next 30 days. She can go on leash walks, said the good ol’ boy vet who did the treatment, but “Whatchu wanna ‘void is the hunnert-yard dash.”
Day 5
In preparation for cheering my friends on at the Dismal Swamp Stomp half-marathon, I drop Tulip at my sister’s house for a sleepover. (Auntie Erika will pick up Redford and Violet from my house after work, and they’ll have a slumber party with their cousin Barley.) I give my small relatives (ages 10, 7, and 2) instructions on food, petting, exercise, correction, meds, and prohibited items (chocolate, grapes, raisins, onions, etc.—things that are poisonous for dogs).
Within two hours, I get an email from Wa saying that, other than her own psychosomatic dog ticks and the fact that Tulip won’t stop humping Eldest Niece, things are going well.
Then a phone call. Eldest Nephew had dropped a grape from his snack plate, which Tulip gobbled up. He immediately held his hands over his ears in terror, as if (my sister said) Tulip might explode. (Eldest Nephew inherited the Scotts’ genetic predisposition toward worry.) I assure everybody that a single grape will not kill my foster dog.
The best part is that Tulip freakin’ adores the Scary Man, greets him with wags and kisses, and whimpers and scrabbles at the fence when he leaves.
Day 6
My sister provides me with a list of Tulip’s unauthorized snacks, or attempted snacks. In addition to the grape:
- half a crayon
- plastic soccer ball
- mouse carcass
- door mat
- golf ball
- large plastic egg
Might have something to do with the next email I get, which states that Littlest Niece and Tulip are in competition to see who can poop the most times in a day. They are tied at three times.
Despite all that, my sister says Tulip is really sweet, wonderful with the kids, and appropriately fierce when the neighbor-man appears suddenly over the fence.
I pick up my foster dog in the evening. She’s happy to see me, but I get the feeling she wouldn’t mind staying at Auntie Wa and Uncle Scary Man’s house.
Day 7
We take two walks with two different aunties, the first around my neighborhood which is kind of boring, the second on Duke’s campus which is full of people! and squirrels! and smells! and dogs! other dogs! Tulip wants desperately to make friends with the other dogs and responds not a whit to verbal corrections or tugs on the prong collar I’m trying out with her.
We need to take a class.
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