Another happy ending

I was thinking today that I had recently started to call Shiloh "my dog," but after reviewing my previous  posts that he appears in, I guess I've been doing it a lot longer than I thought. He's not mine anymore, by the way. The beautiful blond was adopted on Saturday and boy ol' boy, was it bittersweet.

After all of those flooding emails that I could barely keep up with in February, the interest quickly died. Maybe it was because he was marked adopted on Petfinder? I think so. It took me over a month and many nagging e-mails to get him back on the site, but there was still no interest. Moving into a new apartment appeared on my horizon and Shiloh wasn't going to be able to accompany me. The fire was under my chair, but not so much under my heart. I worked on getting Shiloh a little more socialized with longer walks and many at a park very close to our house. We attended adoption events when we could, but the odds didn't look to be in our favor. There was a fundraising event one week in place of the usual adoption event. No one showed up to the next scheduled event at Petsmart, so Shiloh and I hung out with the greyhound rescue for about an hour and then headed home. Shiloh was even published in the newsletter throughout my office (around 600 employees) and still nothing. Then, out of no where, there was some interest again. A woman with a little boy that she described as quiet and shy who had been asking for a golden retriever for the last few years. The woman wanted to meet as soon as possible, so we coordinated with the shelter and we met 2 days later. She was sweet and quiet, and most importantly, optimistic. She talked softly to Shiloh and understood much better than most that he was uncomfortable. She also understood much better than most that it was because of the environment we were in and that he can be so much more. We talked with the shelter staff and said that pending her application, Shiloh could go home with her the following Saturday.

Not that this woman wasn't a perfect match, but I didn't see the shelter saying no to someone interested in adopting the dog that I'd fostered for over seven months. We didn't hear until the Thursday before, but I got the call from the shelter asking when I'd be free to bring him in for the adoption. The Friday before involved a lot of cuddling, and pretty much the whole week leading up to it as well because I was almost certain it was coming. Adoptions are very weird as a foster mom. It's like the dog has a planned death. Every daily task becomes a countdown. We have 5 more walks to take, this is the last night I will feed him dinner, this is our last visit to the park, and the last car ride before we head to the shelter. You can prepare yourself all you want for that moment, but it's the moments afterwards that you know will come and there is nothing you can do about it. For example, I had no idea what time to set my alarm for this morning because I've never gone to this job without being a foster mom. I also almost texted my mom during the day to ask how he was doing and remembered that he wasn't with her. They say that it takes 7 weeks to create a habit, 7 months drills it into your life. No matter what the circumstance, Shiloh leaving our home wasn't going to be easy. That being said, I got so so lucky.

This would be one of those times where I sat down and his inner lap-dog went on display. 

Heading home after a walk at the park. 

Driveway moments

Shiloh actually became a great off-leash dog. Yeah, he would ignore you 
when you first would let him out, but give him a few minutes
and he would come when I called or show up on the
porch completely out of breath. 

As I mentioned before, this woman actually was a perfect match. She sent me an e-mail once we confirmed the adoption time for Saturday exclaiming her excitement and how her little boy was on cloud 9. She asked all of the right questions, like what food was he used to eating, and promised that this would be an open adoption. It was all wonderful to read right before bed, but at the same time, it brought me to crawl out of bed onto the floor with Shiloh and cry over him for a few minutes. Yes, I foster because I don't feel like I'm in a good place to have a permanent dog, but it still isn't easy. The next night, Shiloh and I were attached at the hip. He got a bath that made him softer than ever. (I wish I would have done it so much sooner.) He was so clean that I decided to put him in bed with me. He wouldn't jump on his own, so I lifted the chunk up and he cuddled like it was his job. I wish I would have started doing this a long time ago because he laid right up against me and every now and then would lift up his head and give me a lick. The next morning, we went to that same park we frequented and took a long walk. By the time we got home, we only had 45 minutes to get ready before we drove to the shelter. There isn't much you can do in 45 minutes, so I left Shiloh alone and he slept in our guest bedroom. My mom said her goodbyes and we loaded up.

After his bath, Friday night. 

Last night to cuddle. His head is totally between my pillows. 

Last walk at the park...and of course, he blinked.

Shiloh's new little boy  snuggling
with him at the shelter.

Shiloh and I pulled up next to his new family's vehicle and the little boy got out right away and came around to my side of the car and said a quiet little "hi." Shiloh had no interest in getting out of the car with all of the barking and commotion going on at the shelter, as usual. The woman's son, while very shy, was teeming with excitement. He was very quiet, as his mom had described. and whispered to Shiloh that everything was going to be okay. We went inside to the drama of the shelter, which involved some girls with a dog that their friends had left with them for 3 days while they moved and they never came back, never answered their phone calls. They paid no attention to what the dog was doing while they told the story and he kept creeping up behind Shiloh, (who was completely checked out of the situation and staring out the window) and it made me so nervous. I didn't think I'd react like that, but I almost used my foot to move him away. I guess ever since the biting incident, I'm more cautious about other dogs getting near him because he does tend to separate himself from uncomfortable situations and I don't want him getting caught off-gaurd again. After they left, the drama was put on pause for a moment and Shiloh's new mom had the chance to sit down and fill out the contract with the adoption coordinator telling her that if were to ever not work out, Shiloh must come back to them or myself personally. I love that part of the contract that they have verbalized at both of my foster's adoptions.

After all of the signatures lines were filled, Shiloh's new family went out to the car to get his new collar, harness, and leash. I'm taking it as a sign that the harness was one that I wanted to buy for another dog at one point, but it didn't fit. I unbuckled the collar and harness that he's been sporting since November and adjusted and fastened the new ones. Shiloh's new mom held the leash and he didn't budge, only looked with worried eyes. I said to her, "I don't mind giving him a tug," so I took the leash and he knew that meant to follow and we headed out to their vehicle. As soon as the door to the backseat was open, Shiloh bounded in. Like I've mentioned before, I'll never understand why he always gets in the car so easily, but it's makes life easy. I bent down and said my goodbyes and kissed his face. While closing the door, the little boy says to me, "Miss Emily, you can come visit him at our house whenever you want!'

Words cannot express how thankful I am that there are people our there like Shiloh's adoptive family. And I can't forget Finn's too. Jessica was an amazing support to me on Saturday. She knows all to well what it is like to be on both sides of the transfer. She first adopted Finn, but more recently rescued 4 baby kittens and raised them until they were old enough to be adopted. Shiloh is doing great, which in turn, makes me feel a whole heck of a lot better. I got a text from his new family a few hours after we separated saying that they had made it home, had taken a tour of the neighborhood and that he seemed to be doing really well. I didn't hear too much after that so I was thinking the worst yesterday and today until I got another text tonight that brought along more tears. They had just taken a long walk together and her little boy asked her to take a picture of him and Shiloh to send to me to let me know that Shiloh was happy. She also reported that Shi had wagged his tail this morning when they woke up and that he even licked her. I also heard that he snuggled in bed with her son for about an hour last night, before retreating to a doorless closet to get some sleep himself. I'm so happy for him and I'm so happy for them. Shiloh has a family that pledged to care for him and love him for the rest of his life, and they now have the sweetest dog to pour their love into. Another happy ending complete, although this is certainly not the end.

Shiloh in his new family's car, ready to go home.