The foster that almost was

This is the story of Paco, the little squishy Pug. Or as I call him, Mister Jello Head. Buckle up. It's a long story.

Paco is on our walking route, and he's a friendly, cuddly little guy who has succumbed to the siren call of the treats I carry to curry favor with any dogs we happen to meet. He's almost one year old, and has always been securely behind his fenced in yard, which he guards with lordly attention. Until the day he wasn't. 

My friend K was walking her little Bundledorfer after a horrible thunderstorm that struck without warning. It was still raining as she came down the street where Paco pushes his head through the fence to examine passersby. Only this time, he was loose on the street and running toward a very dangerous throughway. K managed to entice him back toward his home and noticed his Dad standing on the porch. She called to him to help corral Paco back to safety and he. just. stood. there. No reaction, no concern, nothing. Fortunately for Paco and K, a near neighbor saw what was happening and came out to help. Between them, they were able to get the little guy behind his fence.

Now, here's where it took an even more bizarre turn. The man on the porch asked K if she wanted to buy him for $200. This beautiful, happy, sweet little guy for sale after living there for a year? What kind of heartless man was this?

K told me the story and I walked down to check things out and found a crude sign hanging on the fence offering Paco for sale. Something wasn't adding up. I tried to find someone to talk to, but no one would answer the bell. Later that evening, K and I did talk to Paco's Mom. She had no idea the sign was there and there was an effort to sell him. She mentioned her husband didn't want Paco and it created tension in the house. She, on the other hand, adored the little guy and didn't want to give him up. Understood. After a couple conversations, she agreed it might be best if he came to live with me. Since he's a puppy, and I'm a cranky old lady, it was clear that it would be a foster situation. She was welcome to come and visit Paco any time she felt the urge. On Monday we settled on picking him up on Wednesday evening, after I went to get a couple of chew toys and arranged for his accommodations in the house. We wanted him to feel as welcome and comfortable as possible. Fortunately, both Nellie and Rascal liked him already.

Tuesday morning, Paco's auntie was in the yard and we talked. Mom had changed her mind and wasn't willing to part with him. She wouldn't come out and talk to me herself, but it was clear Paco wouldn't be coming home with me. I made sure it was understood that if she changed her mind, all she had to do was let me know. Part of me is so disappointed we won't be adding a cuddly, adorable little dog to our troop; part of me is relieved he is with the family he knows and clearly loves (except for the man of the house). 

And thus endeth  the tale of the Pug foster that wasn't.