Tulip’s story starts here.
Breakfast, dinner, walk, snuggles. Usual stuff.
The woman who put in an application for Tulip—I’ll call her Ann—emails to ask if she can hang out with her for a while in the evening. I tell her of course she can. They chill at her house for several hours. When she brings Tulip back, she seems loathe to leave her.
Usual stuff again.
I’m going on vacation, and Ann is out of town, so another of Tulip’s Facebook friends offers to take care of her for the weekend. I drop my foster dog at let’s-call-her-Stasia’s house in the evening. The next-door neighbor has seven dogs. There is fence patrolling.
As I leave, I realize that, if all goes well, this will be the last time I’ll see Tulip as my foster dog. It’s possible I tear up a little bit.
I head out on vacation.
Ann picks up Tulip from Stasia’s house, and so begins Tulip’s trial in her new adoptive home.
(Stasia emails to say that Tulip was wonderful all weekend and now she’s missing her like crazy.)