Came.Saw.Conquered...and Left

It was a long weekend. A loooooooooooonggggg weekend. Roscoe the dog came to visit on Saturday at 12:30 pm. Tonight, at 6:30 pm, he departed for his foster home, happily wagging his tail all the way. That was not how the weekend went.

I think poor Roscoe was miserable the moment he walked in the door. He spent the days laying on the couch, the nights howling and crying, baying and howling, crying and baying. He came from a foster home that homed eight dogs--EIGHT DOGS--and had been there for a while so it's no wonder he was depressed. After spending two nights trying to make it better, it became very apparent that Roscoe the Beagle was better off at his foster home. So today, after 52 hours with us, Roscoe bounded out the house, happy to be on his way to his home. We saw him leave, and in seeing how happy he was at that moment, we knew we had done the right thing. It took a moment for Devyn and Aiden to readjust, but they are very pleased to know that tomorrow we're on our way to PetSmart to pick up not one, but two new pets. Tomorrow, two Beta fish will become a part of our family--one for Devyn, one for Aiden.

Those are the perfect pets for us right now. It took me exactly 52 hours for me to finally figure out what I've always known--that I am a cat person. I always have been ,ever since Midnight, my very first cat that I had when I was three. Dogs are wonderful. But the honest truth is that I am not a dog person. I like those little fluff balls that sleep at the bottom of the bed on my feet, lick my hand with the little sandpaper tounge and don't cry throughout the night. It's just who I am.