The Foster Chronicles: Tulip, Epilogue

Don’t know Tulip? Her story begins here.

Tulip settles into her new home while I’m on vacation in Central America. Her mom, “Ann”, sends me messages periodically updating me on her progress: Tulip took a walk with her adoptive sister (I’ll call her Ridley); Ridley keeps barking at her but Tulip’s being great; Ann, Ridley, and Tulip all slept in the same room without incident (albeit with Tulip in the crate).

Ann is taking it slow, which is necessary, and seems smitten with Tulip. It makes my heart happy.

Every day in Costa Rica, I see dogs with no collars running down streets and roads. Why are they all running? I want to pick them up, but then what? It makes my heart heavy.

My friends keep telling me that I’m to take a break from fostering—I loved Tulip, yes, they say, but it’s been too stressful. And they’re right. I know they’re right. I need to decompress. I need to snuggle with Violet and Redford.

But it’s a struggle. Carolina Care Bullies needs fosters all the time. And adoptive families. They post about this dog:

Her name is Pumpkin Patch.

She is three to six months old. And a tripod.

Her right rear leg had to be amputated after she was hit by a car.

And I want her. I don’t just want to foster her—I want her to be mine mine mine.

But even though I want to say yes, I think I have to say no this time. For my dogs. For my friends’ dogs, who I want to be able to babysit. For my finances. For my sanity. For the sake of other things I want to do and pursue. So I can say yes to those things.

So when CCB asks if I’ll foster again, which I’m sure they will, I will tell them regretfully no.

I hope I can say no.