Bow's Second Blog Post: Black Friday in SF
I had a good Thanksgiving. Every day I trust my foster dad a little bit more. On the first night, I knew he was safe enough that I wanted to snuggle under the covers. Sometimes when we walk on the street, my urge to chase cars or other dogs is overpowering. Then he'll call my name and hand me a Natural Balance treat. I know he's doing this to manipulate me, but if I get treats, so what? He is so obsessive that he has hired a nice woman to do parallel walks with another rescue pooch. He has also signed us up for a class with a trainer in January. He's on the web or cell phone every day talking to other canine households. Every night I see him typing "basenji behavior" or "rescue dog challenges" into google.com When he calls in the New Age gurus, I'm on the first flight back to Kalamazoo!
This afternoon he showed his sneaky side. We went for a walk, hopped in his car and suddenly arrived at the vet's office! I was really shaking, but he held me and told me how gorgeous I am and that everything would be okay. The vet was a nice lady who put a muzzle on me which I really didn't need and then examined me and gave me a bordatella injection. I was sort of embarrassed when the vet looked at my female parts and commented on whether or not I'd been "fixed" or had a pregnancy in my history. (Please, there's a guy in the room!) She also noticed my scabs and scars from that nasty encounter in an Illinois foster home. I'm not proud of those since I am a very refined lady, and the laid back atmosphere of California and this house where I am treated as the diva that I am is much more to my suiting. The scars and scabs will heal and fade, and I am working all of my charms to make it my forever home. It's not easy to be pulled away from your home of six years in the dark of the night, then thrust into a home that included a psycho/aggressive male that attacked the resident basenjis, only to then be shuttled off to rural Michigan and without warning or explanation to be put in a crate and shoved into the cargo hull of an American Airlines plane and greeted by a stranger. But I am a trusting girl and willing to give this thing a chance. You have to realize that I am suddenly been thrust into a totally foreign world where none of the smells, sounds, other dogs, humans or weather is familiar. I am a forgiving basenji with a heart that wants to trust that my foster-dad will rise to the challenge. He is trying hard, and I give him all the encouragement that I can.
After our vet visit, my foster daddy walked me back home, gave me a pig's ear which sent me into another place, and then he sneaked out while I was chomping away. About half an hour later he came back with bags of food for himself and some treats and this new bed for me. Who told him that my favorite color is red? I may keep him after all.