Little Smitty was a quick foster who just needed some time for his wounds to heal. He was a young cairn terrier mix.
Next up was Georgia. It had been awhile since I'd had a hard foster so I felt I needed to do my part. I took Georgia. In addition to having a really bad hair day, she had a broken pelvis and required 2 months of cage rest.
She was a teeny, tiny thing who weighed almost nothing. But despite her wee size, boy, could that dog scream! She didn't bark, she screamed. And she screamed whenever she was caged, which is all the time when you're on cage rest. We got new neighbors during the time we had Georgia and I had to assure them that we wouldn't have her forever. It was January so our windows were always open, and their windows were always open, so we all had to endure the screaming. The screaming which never ended.
When she wasn't screaming, she was awesome. She was cuddly and sweet, and housetrained. She LOVED to play with the cat, she loved her toys and she loved the dogs. We put the toy box in her x-pen and she'd crawl right into the box so she could play with every toy we have. When she was healed enough to play, we learned that she was a fetch super-star. But by then, we were so annoyed with her screaming that even though she was no longer caged and thus no longer screaming, we were eager to take her back to the shelter. Even after a bath and a brush, the bad hair day persists.
Andy was very close to being a keeper. He was a 9 pound chihuahua that I fostered for cherry eye. When I picked him up I immediately fell in love with him. He was very athletic and sturdy for being such a tiny little dog. He got along great with the other dogs, he was housetrained. He was very agile and even in his cone, he could jump up on the chairs. He was perfect. Here he is with my dogs and my old roommate's dog, Chugg.
Then I found out what was wrong with him - He HATED the cat. He was obsessed with the cat. He would jump up on the chair and then get onto the table to attack the cat. Bless Al's heart, he didn't even care. While Andy was attacking him, Al would just look at me like "Why do I have to put up with these little dogs?' Al didn't fight back, just tolerated it like he would a flea. Andy was so obsessed that he would just stare at the kitty non-stop:
Once when I brought the dogs in from outside, Al wasn't up on the table where he lives but on the kitchen floor instead. (On a non-Andy note, I think Al might be going deaf because he always gets up on the table when he hears me open the back door to let the dogs in.) Andy raced to him and started attacking him. I picked Al up to get him away from the fury of the little chihuahua. What did Andy do? He leaped into the air and caught Al's hind leg and held on like he was a pit bull with locking jaws. Andy - you are a chihuahua! And you are not a keeper. Even despite his cat-hating, I kept him longer than I needed to because I liked him so much. When Al wasn't around, he was so much fun! But I finally returned him for adoption and he was adopted 2 days later, hopefully to a home with no cats! His kennel card stated he wasn't good with cats so let's hope the adopters believed it.