For a month I have been posting on classifieds and calling rescues trying to find a place for our Giant Sausage. Even Curly agreed he'd be happier in a different home. You see, he's been banished to the back porch indefinitely where he still manages to commit grave indiscretions, mostly due to our patent neglect of him. Poor dog. So I decided to look for a better home.
I was beginning to be concerned. We had several inquiries right away but everyone quickly left again. I guess I am too honest. But I could not bear the thought of someone getting home with him and treating him badly when he tore something up or messed in their house.
Then I would get emails like this (actual email):
i am interest on this beutiful dog, i feel like i need a companion up here at school, i have three other dogs back at home in oregon, well since i left they became my moms dogs, but i love them and miss them very much, is he still available?
Uhhhh, sorry, but no. He would not sit in your apartment all day while you were in classes, as contraband from your landlord and happily wait for you to get home and maybe not even take him out because you have no yard. Get a fish.
I was beginning to think we'd never find a good home for him.
Then today I got an email from some people who live out in the country, whose beloved dog had died and who knew how to train him, who would give him exercise and attention, who were good, salt-of-the-earth people. People who had horse manure on their boots.
Oh, Please, I prayed. It remained for them to meet him.
They came today. They met. They heard about all of his foibles and laughed and told me stories of training a redbone hound. They took him with them to the grocery store. They came back to let Curly say goodbye (she did not cry) and they left with the Beagle, his food, his bed and his stuffed hippo.
And we rejoiced.