But that wasn't the case.
In fact, oftentimes, it was exciting to see them go! Yes, I was sad, and yes I loved them all. But, this meant that I could make my way back to "Doggie Death Row" and find a new soul to save!
That was, until I met Elliott.
Elliott was my love.
To this day, I cannot think about him without wishing I would have never let him go.
This was my first glimpse of Elliott:
The head of the rescue emailed all the volunteers to see if anyone wanted to foster him.
And I was the sucker that agreed.
Elliott got his name, because he looked so pathetic and nasty that he reminded me of ET. I thought it would be mean to name him ET, so ET transposed into Elllllliiiiiotttttt.
I'll be honest. I have no idea why I agreed to even take him in. He was a black, male Pit Bull mix and that is one of the hardest combinations of factors to adopt out. On top of which, he had severely bowed legs from malnutrition and had a nasty case of demodectic mange!
But I went and picked him up anyway.
And I immediately fell in love with him.
Elliott stayed with us for months -- April until August, 2008. It was by far the LONGEST I ever kept a foster. He received daily ivermectin injections for the mange, he was on a slew of antibiotics and pills. He even had to undergo eye surgery for severe bilateral entropion.
This dog was a mess!
Elliott was quickly dubbed with his "Christian name" of Elliott James Stinkbottom, because he smelled so badly from the mange! He was also often referred to (adoringly) as Smelliott!!
But, this puppy had a sweeter disposition than any I have ever fostered. He was intelligent, snuggly, he was loving, well-behaved and so calm. He oftentimes slept in our bed -- much to the chagrin of my husband and the raging jealousy of Hank and Marla!
But, he was so perfect!
I desperately tried to get someone I knew to adopt him. If I couldn't keep him, I wanted to at least be able to stay in touch. But that wasn't about to happen.
When the day finally came that I received an outstanding application for him, I was devastated. He had been with us for so long, I couldn't imagine parting with him!
But the applicant had excellent recommendations from both his vet, his landlord and his neighbors. He understood his breed and was willing to do further surgeries if necessary. He was going to give my boy a wonderful home.
I was heartbroken, but I said goodbye.
I had fostered a lot of dogs, but never shed a tear when one found its new home.
I bawled when Elliott left.
A few weeks after Elliott went to live with his new family, I emailed his new owner to get a progress report. I was devastated to learn that Elliott James Stinkbottom was now called "Nacho". Yes, as in the Mexican treat.
My sweet, perfect Elliott was now Nacho.
NACHO!!!??!?
I know I did what was best for him. And I know that because I said goodbye, I was able to foster many more dogs after him. But, nonetheless, I regret that I let him go.
I sincerely wish I would have found a way to be able to keep Elliott as my own.
Letting him go is my single foster regret.
Elliott, I love you. I hope you are doing well.
