Wednesday, October 31, 2012

All Quiet on the Halloween Front

Happy Halloween all!
It's that time of year again when little ghosties and witches roam the streets, knocking on doors and shouting:
"trick or treat!"
I've always loved Halloween and still do, but this year Halloween is going to be a fairly low key event at the Mr. and Mrs. K homestead.
To be honest, Halloween sort of snuck up on me this year. Usually I've thought of my costume months in advanced, but with my MSc program starting mid September, my brain has been mostly filled with research methods, coping/stress/control and so much more. Sometimes I feel like I hardly have time for my poor puppy dogs, or even for poor Mr. K, for that matter. I also have been focusing on Christmas since my parents are coming to visit and that will be the first time I've seen them in over a year and a half.
I have always enjoyed getting my dogs dressed up too. Some would disagree with that, and that is fine, but I don't have kids and never will. Thus, I need someone to dress up.
Jetta probably got the brunt of it with her having to be a ballerina princess (she ate the crown and peed on the shoes), my evil minion (she wore huge, black bat wings and I was a vampire), a Lost Boy (I was Tinkerbell of course) and a  wizard (her friend Cessna from Ruled by Paws got to share in that joy that year as we made their costumes for them). We really wanted to make them "My Little Ponies" that year, but couldn't quite figure that one out. So, wizards it was.
Glacier was a bit luckier with only having to be the donkey from Winnie the Poo twice. Aria was a lobster and Kyo was an athlete.
This year Hermione, Otis and Roscoe have managed to side step the costumes. We really don't have anywhere to go with them dressed up and so what's really the point? However, I think Otis would have made the cutest pumpkin with his gigantic puppy belly and squat little French Bulldog stature. Hermione most certainly would have had to be a princess because, well, she is a princess. And Roscoe? He probably wouldn't have tolerated it so well. So, perhaps a Halloween themed bandanna would have done for him. That is, of course, if we were actually dressing them up.
Halloween doesn't seem to be quite as a big deal here as in North America and so perhaps that is part of how it snuck up on me.
That's not to say we haven't done, or won't do, a few Halloweenish things.
First of all, I had a "ghost" cookie at the cafe this morning after I spent an hour and a half with my class instructor going over inferential statistics for my exam tomorrow. The cookie was quite cleverly made and was quite tasty.
Everyone needs a 3D ghost cookie after that much Stats.
Mr. K and I are also going to carve a pumpkin tonight. We've always carved pumpkins together; last year being the exception. One year he carved a scene from "The Nightmare Before Christmas" into the pumpkin. Quite impressive if you ask me. So there's a bit of our Halloween tradition. We can't do much tonight anyway with me having to write this crazy exam tomorrow.
 Originally, I had asked people over for a pumpkin carving party last night, but since my idea was last minute, no one was able to come. Again, probably for the better: it gave me more time to study.
So that is about it. It's going to be a quiet Halloween this year, but that's okay. There's always next year.

Sunday, October 28, 2012

Sea, Land and Tires: Mrs. Money Bags!

Sea, Land and Tires: Mrs. Money Bags!: ...well, at least that would help. ;) Since officially announcing my crazy idea and switching it from "crazy idea" status to "having to do ...

Friday, October 26, 2012

Sea, Land and Tires: It's Official!!!!!

Sea, Land and Tires: It's Official!!!!!: I thought I had a few more days. I thought that my crazy idea was just idea, but it's not just an idea anymore. Nope. I have jus...

Tuesday, October 23, 2012


This weekend was a fun filled one with many fuzzy creatures about. Of course there were our three-Roscoe, Hermione and Otis-but we had a fourth furry butt taking up a spot on the couch.
Glacier came to visit.
Well, of course his people came too, but we got him all to ourselves Saturday evening while they attended a wedding reception. We honestly didn't do much in the evening, except watch a few TV shows, while all of the dogs were passed out on the couches. Earlier in the afternoon, before Glacier's people had to get beautified, the four humans and four pooches piled into Glacier's new Dad's car and we went on a drive, touring part of the Scottish country side. Scotland really is a very pretty country.
We drove past fields, moors and up and down gigantic hills. We stopped at a castle and even got to watch the sun set over the landscape. We stopped at a beach, where the tide was out, and the dogs got to run around. L had her "Wellies" on and splashed in the shallows with Roscoe and Glacier. Hermione isn't much of a water dog and so she spent her time digging in the hard packed sand for treasures. Perhaps we should have named her "Indiana" or "Jones." ;) She's grown into quite the little lady, with some definite 'tude. If I didn't know better I'd say that she was getting some online lessons from Jetta. That said, she's a lot of fun and she is probably one of the best dogs I've ever had off leash. Her latest skill is learning to move to the side of the cycling path when cyclists come flying at tops speeds either towards or from behind us. She is catching on quite quickly.
Otis got to tour around too, but was on an extenda leash because French Bulldogs can't swim. In fact, it is very easy for them to drown in very shallow water because of the way their bodies are designed. So, since he is quite small and because we didn't want to risk it, he puttered around on the 15 foot leash. I think he enjoyed himself despite having to be tethered. It's amazing how much the little dude has grown in such a short amount of time. He's gone from this little, squat puppy who had barely any legs to a little guy who actually looks like a dog. He isn't exactly big or anything because he is only three and a half months old, but he certainly has changed a  lot since bwe brought him home. His body is actually bigger than his head now.
Sunday morning we had a leisurely stroll along the bike path, allowing all four dogs to have some leash free time. It really was a gorgeous morning and it also meant that Glacier got some of his "beans out" before having to hop in the car to go back home, which is a four hour drive.
I think Roscoe was the happiest to have Glacier back for a while. Before Glacier even arrived if you mentioned his name, Roscoe started hopping around and wagging his tail like mad. Both big dogs spent a lot of time running together and getting each other into trouble. Roscoe's alert barking decreased a lot as well. I think having Glacier around as back up makes Roscoe feel more secure. I really hope my new guide dog comes along soon not only for me, but also for Roscoe. I think he needs another big dog in the mix since that is what he's used to. Either that or we're going to ship him off to live with Mr. G. (Just kidding).
Even though we have three dogs, the flat has seemed quiet minus the Yellow Fellow. He did leave us enough white fur to make a scarf/hat/mitten set, or maybe even a throw blanket, to remind us he was here. It is so good to see him so happy and completely devoted to his new people. Before he retired I felt like his spirit had gone or that the light had gone out of his eyes, but it's definitely back. Re-homing him with his new people was the best decision I could have made for him.
It was a great couple of days full of sunshine and fur.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

She's Still Got It: Jetta the Jitter Bug

It's been just over four years since Jetta my first guide dog retired. She basically retired herself in typical Jetta fashion and moved into a squishy retirement with my parents. I can't believe she's going to be twelve this December.
When I called home the other day Mom and I got to talking and just as we were about to get off the phone she said, "Oh, I almost forgot."
She proceeded to tell me that my dad, being the goofy guy he is, had decided to wrap two "thank you" gifts my parents had bought for family members in Christmas wrap. He finished off the roll and stood chatting to my mom in the kitchen just holding on to the roll; presumably to put it in the recycling. Suddenly, the roll started bouncing around in his hand and he looked down to see Jetta pulling the tube out of his hand. He let her have it and off she went to shred it into little bits in the living room.
This story had me in stitches as it is definitely something Jetta would do. Actually, it really had me laughing because it used to be one of mine and Jetta's Christmas traditions for me to (pretend) attack her with the empty tubes (lightly) whacking her on the head and poking her in the butt; kind of like we were jousting. Well, I guess I was jousting, she was just trying to eat the thing. Not necessarily "by the books" guide dog/handler behavior, but I guess you learn what you can do with your dogs and what you can't. It's good to know that the old girl still remembers and that she's still got her characteristic spunk despite being a senior citizen.
Oh, Jetta. :)

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Deep Thoughts

I was lying in bed last night contemplating the complexities of life while my tummy roiled like an unleashed Edinburgh wind storm and I got to thinking: what do people without dogs do with their time?!
(I told you I was having earth shattering thoughts).
I can't remember a time in my life without a dog and since being matched with Jetta in July of 2002, I've certainly had dog stuff that needed to be done.
Growing up, I had a   Yellow Lab named Sasha, a great big guy who was my best friend. I did some things for him, like feeding and letting out, but me being only six when we got him, I didn't realise the commitment and time dedication having a dog  really is. Now, I have three of my own and they definitely keep me busy, even when I should be lying in bed trying to get better.
Every morning Hermione wakes me up between six and seven to go out. We used to go and have my breakfast and coffee, but as of late we both go back to bed. She's the one who breaks open the bedroom door and won't get under the covers in her spot until I come back to bed too. One morning, just before I started feeling the full effects of this weird flu thing, I contemplated staying up, but Hermione made such pathetic noises that I followed her back to bed
Between nine and ten is when she wakes up again, whacking Mr. K with her paws and draping herself across his neck to give him kisses. I'm not sure why she wakes him up because I'm always the one who gets up to feed them and take them out again, but every morning, never fails, she does her "good morning Daddy" dance. After that, it's doggie breakfast and water, out again and, when I'm not feeling like my intestines are going to implode, we go for a walk or for a coffee at the cafe.
From there on, my schedule differs depending on the day and the need for homework, house cleaning or perhaps a social outing, but no matter what goes on the dogs are always taken care of first. Whether it's going for a long off leash walk to make Hermione tired so I can study or puppies safely tucked in their crates with peanut butter Kongs so we can go out, our lives definitely revolve around these little, crazy fuzz balls. I think at this particular moment more than ever because both Hermione and Otis are young and Otis needs potty training and Hermione needs potty training reinforcement.
What do non-dog owning people do when they leave the house? Just grab their keys and go? How are their mornings spent without a fuzzy companion to go walking with or play a game of fetch with? Coffee in the morning just isn't coffee in the morning without a fuzzy body of some shape and size or another resting in my lap. (Roscoe size included).
At guide dog school we are taught about keeping your dog on a schedule with regards to feeding, watering and bathroom breaks. I think this mindset has been so ingrained into my psyche that if I didn't have a dog around for  a few days, I'd be completely lost. In fact, it was weird once Glacier moved out and there were only-and I use the word "only" loosely-two dogs in the house.
My coat pockets and purse are infested with pooh bags, treats and extra leashes/collars. What do non-dog people carry around with them with those gigantic purses?
 Our living room is littered with Nyla bones, Kongs, some form of a squeak toy or another and so many other toys. Our cupboards have been taken over by bowls, dog food and the treats I've made. What does non-dog people's living spaces look like? Probably way less furrier than mine and their furniture is probably nicer; minus the muddy paw prints we didn't quite catch when someone ran in with wet paws.
We have harnesses and leashes hanging on the back of our front door for easy reach. I'm not sure what I'd hang there if we didn't have dogs. Coats?
Perhaps I bring dog owning/loving to a new level, I mean, I do bake them their own treats and am always on the hunt for a new healthy recipe to try, but I'm not sure I'd have it any other way. Then again, I'm not sure I'd know how to have it any other way. :)

Friday, October 12, 2012


The last couple of days have ben a bit of a  downer; especially for the dogs. I've been battling with some kind of strange stomach bug, which means no more walkies and very few play sessions. Thankfully, Hermione and Otis have found ways to keep each other entertained, but I think even their games are growing boring.
Otis is still in his "I'm a puppy so I sleep most of the time" phase, but Hermione is certainly in her "I'm a teenager dog, what can I get in to"? phase. She's been pretty good considering, but there have been a few times where I've just wanted to put her in her crate with a peanut butter filled Kong and let her chill out for a while; let me chill out for a while. However, she has managed to leave me in stitches despite my sore tummy.
Just earlier today she practised her handy work on destruction and completely obliterated a tennis ball that was on a rope toy. There is nothing left except for tiny rubber bits that will have to be cleaned up via a vaccuum. She reminded me of Glacier with that little piece of work, but at least it took her at least over an hour or two  whereas it would have taken Glacier ten minutes.
Her new and most favourite game has been running zoomies down our hall and back, launching herself on to the couch, flinging herself just as fast off, put on repeat. Poor little Otis's legs don't have a chance, but he tries his hardest to catch her as she zooms by. This went on for a good twenty minutes with a small intermission for Hermione to dig frantically in her bowl, in the hopes that water would magically appear at the bottom.
Sorry, Miss Priss, you do not get water at eight at night because that results in a puppy who needs to pee at ridiculous times in the middle of the night. Nice try though.
As for the mad zoomies, they have stopped for now, but I have no doubt our hallway/living room/couch will turn back in to a race track in no time.
I do feel bad that she hasn't been outside for more than "potty breaks," but at least she and Otis have each other and at least she has enough space to run like a maniac. Hopefully tomorrow this weird flu thingy will be gone and we can get out and get in our usual 1 to 2 hour Saturday morning walk. I think I need it as much as she does.
Zoom, zoom my little Princess.

Sunday, October 07, 2012

Pie Time!

It is Thanksgiving in the land of ice and snow. Happy Canadian Thanksgiving everyone!
Last year we had a combination Thanksgiving  somewhere between the Canadian and American one, but this year since there are really only three of us left, we're doing things a bit different; a bit smaller scale.
Instead of turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and whatever else someone may stuff into oneself on such an occasion, we are skipping all of that.
That's right. We're going straight for dessert!
One of the key staples in my family's Thanksgiving, and I think most everyone else's, is pumpkin pie. I used to hate it as a kid. I think it wasn't sweet enough for my little kid taste buds, but as I've grown older and acquired the taste, nothing can beat a perfectly baked pumpkin pie, topped off by whipped cream. Otherwise known as, in the UK, "squirty cream."
Dessert pies aren't really a popular thing here either. So, it is a treat in more than one way. Not only are we having home made pumpkin pie in celebration of Thanksgiving, but we are also getting dessert pie.
I was thinking about what I am thankful for this year and there are so many things. We've had a good year, with a few hard moments here and there, but it's those hard moments that make you appreciate the good ones even more. It also reminds you of how much loved you are by really supportive family members; even if they are across an ocean.
So what am I thankful for this year?
My family, near and far, furry and not; having the opportunity to be going back to school in a program that I absolutely love; the opportunity to live abroad; the beauty of the city that we live in; coffee (every student is grateful for the stuff); good health; and of course, Mr. K. He and I have had a lot of life changes recently, all good, and I am so thankful that we get to share our lives with one another and enrich each other's lives; at least, I think he enriches my life. Not sure if he feels the same way about me. (Just kidding).
And last but certainly not least, home made pumpkin pie. :)
Happy Thanksgiving!

Wednesday, October 03, 2012

The End of the Story

So, do you remember me saying that it was the demise of me becoming a foster parent? I wasn't joking. I don't think we'll ever get to foster for that rescue again, but I learned some very valuable lessons.
When Flick arrived I felt very overwhelmed. There were a lot of things that seemed to go wrong, or at least were a miscommunication between myself and the rescue, and I think these elements and several others lead to high stress levels for everyone involved; including the rescue volunteers.
I had been under the impression that when Flick arrived she would have everything she needed. I was told she came with bowls, collar/lead, muzzle, crate, coat  and food. When she arrived the only things she had  were her collar/lead, her muzzle which was too big-and apparently we wouldn't have even gotten that if her trainer hadn't given the woman who picked her up one-and a crate that had one door rusted shut. I was handed her leash and the woman said she'd come up and see how everyone got along. When we had chatted on the phone the day before she had asked if she could come up with her new foster dog and I said of course, thinking that we'd all sit down and have a chat about fostering and what that particular rescue expected. No one had done this with me yet and the only things I knew about Greyhounds was what I had read online. I thought she'd come in and give me a quick break down of the breed and allow me to ask any questions, but that is not what happened.
Flick, the volunteer and I went up to my flat to introduce Flick to the resident dogs. Hermione was the only one  out and about at the time as I didn't want Flick to be overwhelmed by dogs and also because Hermione was our greatest concern with regards to Flick's chase instinct.
As I suspected, Hermione wasn't a fan, but that didn't really surprise me. Hermione is, as I've said before, a "B" with an itch and can take some time to warm up to other dogs. She's fine with humans and will launch herself into their laps, but she will hang back and observe other dogs until she knows what they are like. She doesn't bark or growl and isn't rude, she just doesn't get super excited. I figured the two of them would figure it out eventually once Hermione realised that Flick wouldn't hurt her. The only problem was that when they first met, Flick excitedly went to sniff Hermione and whacked the already sore and drugged Hermione with the basket muzzle. If you have ever been hit by one of those, you will know they do not feel good. Hermione let out this horrible noise-I think it was more drama than anything-and removed herself from the room. She disappeared into her crate for the remainder of the day. Mr. K came out at that moment with Otis, whom Flick couldn't care less about, and Roscoe came too. I began to get concerned when Roscoe gave her the cold shoulder since Roscoe is our friendliest guy out of the bunch. He loves to play with other dogs, but I thought it was maybe because she was a different breed that he hasn't seen much and she was wearing the basket muzzle.
After Flick accidentally whacked Hermione, the volunteer was quick to high tail it to the door. I think she was in our flat for a total of five minutes and just showed herself to the door. I had so many questions and the first meeting of everyone had not gone quite as well as I'd hoped, but my opportunity to ask questions/raise concerns was walking out the door. As I stood there tongue tied and surprised at her sudden departure, I told Mr. K that I was confused because there wasn't any food for Flick and the woman had told me that Flick hadn't eaten that day. Mr. K told me to go down and ask her about food and so I did.
I was told, shouted from across the street, that we were to turn in receipts for Flick's food. I didn't have a problem with this method, but that is not what we were originally told and we didn't have any food for her right at that moment. We didn't have bowls either or a jacket. It's October in Scotland: Greyhounds need coats even if only for evening or early morning walks. I had so many more questions, and was also concerned as to how I was supposed to keep Flick warm when out relieving and walking, but the woman was basically in her car closing the door, so I went back upstairs.
Upon my arrival back upstairs, Mr. K was none too pleased about this new arrangement. I can't blame him. As I said before, it's not that we minded, it's just that we had been told something different and we were completely unprepared for our new arrival. We also found out quickly that she had not been relieved before she was handed over as she nearly went on the floor, but a quick "Flick no" cut that short. Thankfully, she is house trained and went instantly when she was taken outside.
There was a lot of stress in our house and so I decided to take Flick for a walk. We went for a good two hours, stopping in a local park to people watch. I introduced her to other dogs, but that was slow going because I think people were nervous of her due to the muzzle. After our walk, I came home to a still very stressed out Mr. K and a Hermione still hiding in her crate. I sat on the floor in front of her crate and talked to her, petting her and encouraging her to come out. I kept Flick nearby on leash and petted her too, trying to get the two girls used to each other. Hermione did eventually come out, only for dinner, and went right back in her crate. We tried putting Flick in her crate and having the household dogs wander about her, but Hermione still wouldn't come out and Flick made such a racket we were worried our neighbours would call the police. I didn't know what to do and so tried calling the woman who was supposed to be my contact for anything fostering related, but she would only text and sent me to voice mail when I called her.
I was tired, stressed and frustrated and knew that wasn't a good combination for any of the dogs, never mind the humans. I needed help and I wasn't getting any. So, I called the woman who had dropped Flick off in the first place and talked to her. She gave a few suggestions for getting the girls used to one another and just said to give it some time. I began to realise that I was not equipped to give Flick what she needed.
I spent the rest of the day attempting to help Flick to settle in and show our dogs that she meant them no harm. Mr. K was still not convinced and when Flick lunged at Hermione that was the last straw for him. Not being able to see, I wasn't sure if the lunge was a "let's play" or a "I'm going to eat you" lunge. Mr. K had been holding on to the leash at the time and I was sitting on the floor playing with Hermione. When we received a phone call from another person-apparently she was in charge of transport, but I didn't find that out until the next day-I told her what was going on. She suggested she come over and see if she couldn't help the two settle in together, but I think Mr. K was at his wit's end. I was feeling very stressed as well.
There aren't many things I will openly admit I cannot do as a blind person, but fostering dogs with potentially high and unpredictable prey drive, may be one of them. I felt on edge, waiting for Flick to go after Hermione, or even Otis, again. I thought I could do it, but I couldn't. I love Greyhounds and think they are gorgeous and loving creatures, in fact I had quickly fallen in love with Flick, but I think our household is not set up to accommodate the needs of a   raw Greyhound. That admission does not come easily for me, but there it is.
When the third person called us back, I said we'd keep Flick over night, but that she needed to have a new home the next day. It was one of the hardest conversations I've had. It wasn't Flick's fault. She actually was a really great house guest: she was perfectly house trained, which was a relief.
That night was a long and trying one. We were awakened by one dog or another almost every hour. Roscoe was the only one  who slept soundly I think. At five AM I finally took the two girls out into the living room in order to let Mr. K get some uninterrupted sleep. I sat on the couch, snuggling both dogs and thought that maybe we could do this, but then when Hermione tried to give Flick kisses and Flick growled at her, I went back the other way again. What finally made me feel as though I had made the right decision for everyone was when Flick actually lunged/growled/barked at Hermione when Hermione was just standing on the floor looking up at Flick who was laying on the couch. If I hadn't had the leash taut, Flick may have injured Hermione.
With all of that in mind, I think Flick is a great dog. When she went after Hermione, her self correction made her realise that she had done something bad. She instantly flipped over and started whacking me with her paws as if to say,"Oh no! I got carried away!" She was perfectly house trained, took treats gently, walked nicely on the leash and was a huge cuddle bug. She also had the benefit of being absolutely gorgeous. Flick was a brindle Greyhound, with her markings being larger so that she actually was marked like a tiger. Her coat was actually quite healthy and shiny. She did have a shoulder injury, from what I could tell, but I think that would heal in time. I have absolutely no doubts that she will get adopted very quickly.
Mr. K and I had a chat after she left and we both agreed that if we had been in a different situation-bigger flat, Hermione not healing from surgery, Otis being full grown or at least house trained-we would have kept her as a pet. Instead of wearing the "I failed as a fosterer because I had to give my dog back in 24 hours" t-shirt, we'd be wearing the "I failed as a fosterer because my foster dog is now living permanently in my home" t-shirt.
So what have I learned from this?
I've learned that it is okay to say no and that sometimes it could possibly solve a lot of heart break in the long run. I've learned, that despite what I think, I cannot possibly do everything or save everyone. Fostering may be something we will only be able to do  a long ways into the future when we really don't have any pet dogs, or at least not new puppies. Or, perhaps, fostering is not something I will ever be able to do due to my life's circumstances, but that there are other ways for me to help.
Despite all of this, I have no hard feelings towards the rescue. I think I just talked to too many people who probably assumed the person before them had given me the "welcome to the fostering Greyhounds  club" speech. A lot of what went wrong was also my fault and i take full responsibility for that. They are holding an online auction in the upcoming month and I've offered to make a hand tied fleece blanket and a Halloween themed doggie goodie basket. I know I can handle that at least.
Where do I go from here?
Hermione is going to be a year in a few months and I am thinking I may enter her into some beginner agility classes. She is crazy good at jumping/running/turning/going through/over things and actually enjoys it. So, I'm going to work with her on her basic obedience in order to get it a bit more reliable and then see in January if we can't get involved in some sort of agility club.

Monday, October 01, 2012

Just Say No!

Somewhere between finding Otis on Friday and going to pick him up on Sunday, the Greyhound rescue phoned me to say that they had found a Hound. Apparently Flick had done well with her introduction to small, bouncy dogs and the rescue thought she'd be great in our home. I panicked. I didn't know what to say.
Here Mr. K and I were off to buy new things for a new puppy and the rescue was telling me that we could be foster parents. Actually, we were buying new things for Hermione and new puppy would inherit her old things until he outgrew the teething stage, but that is neither here nor there. I was so torn.
I have wanted to foster for so long and just have never done it because I was afraid of how my guide dogs would have reacted. Foster dogs would take attention away from a working dog and I did not want to adversely effect my working relationship with either of my now retired dogs. Yet, we were bringing home a new little dude and Hermione and Hamish were going in on Tuesday to be spayed and neutered. All of that on top of a foster dog would be lot. Not to mention, all of my class work that I needed to get done.
I had the brains to ask the woman if I could call her back, but all brains flew out of my head once I hung up the phone and excitedly told Mr. K about Flick. We were literally walking to the pet store and so I think we both weren't thinking straight or really paying attention. He knew how excited I was about this whole fostering thing and so he said that if I wanted to do it that I could say yes.
And so, I said yes.
The next couple of days passed in a blur. Sunday we were traveling all day, meeting and picking up Otis. Monday was spent settling in and also going to class and Tuesday started early with Hermione and Hamish going to the vet for 8.30 AM. My day continued on from there with a quick breakfast and then I hopped the bus to make a meeting dedicated to accessibility issues on campus and within my courses, which, by the way, went very well. The head of my program is amazing, but that is a whole other story. Two hours later it was time for a quick lunch, two hours of class, break and then two more hours of class. By the time I got back home, I was absolutely exhausted and ready to sink on to the couch with a cup of tea and  cuddle my poor  baby girl.
The problem was, somewhere in all of that, I took two phone calls from Mr. K and returned another to the Greyhound rescue, confirming that dropping Flick off the next day was fine. The phone calls weren't the problem, agreeing to take on a "raw" dog from a kennel the day after having a crazy day and only 24 hours after Hermione was spayed was the problem. I was so excited to meet Flick and so frazzled from the overload of information that I had gotten that day, that all sense flew out of my head...again.
"Drop her off between 1 and 2? Of course. That is perfect."
And so began my demise as a foster parent.