I have a rule, and you may groan when you hear it, but I try not to get excited about something. If I let myself get excited generally it doesn’t happen. I know that this may sound like it a mega negative but it has happened so many times in my life that I have just accepted it. Although occasionally I’ll forget, I’ll let myself dream dreams. I’ll quietly make plans… and then it’ll bite me on the ass as the plans fall through!
It’s happened again. I am desperately keen to become a foster mum, for animals. Growing up I thought it was something I would never be able to do but having read some brilliant foster blogs I realised that not only could I do this, but I could do it well. I have spent time researching rescues, thinking through the technicalities, and finally I took the leap with a rescue that provides accommodation for animals who’s owners are escaping domestic violence. I sent of an email introducing myself, I explained about my two part time dogs, my working hours and crossed my fingers.
The email that came back thanked me for my interest and sent me a form to fill in. I was ecstatic – beyond excited. I loved that by helping out I would not only be helping animals in need, but families. I started to dream, thinking about how I would learn to cope with different breeds, dealing with dogs who had experience god-alone-knows what. I worried about what this would do with the interaction with BD, whether it would be a case of if I had a foster dog I could only had him for short walks when they could be together, or if this would be a step further on his battles with fear aggression. I couldn’t wait.
And then I read the leaflet which clearly stated that they would not accept foster offers from people who worked more than 4 hour days. Which I do. Immediately I contacted the lady back and re-iterated my situation and I received back a very polite decline of my services. I am gutted.
I can completely understand why the ideal is that dogs should not be left for long periods of time alone…. In an ideal world. But we do not live in an ideal world, if we did we would have no need for foster parents or dog rescues. There would be no abuse, no fear, no evil. Every pet would be valued, loved and I would be living on a beach with sun, my dogs and children playing in the sea and a guy who loved me as much as I loved him lying next to me (and yes there may be a glass of white wine in my hand, or some sort of cocktail!)
But this isn’t the ideal world, and although I would be at work a lot I would have evening and weekend free. I have a secure large garden. I have an empty couch and I have enough dog toys, beds and general love that to write me off based purely on this one fact is a little upsetting. I was asked to get back in contact if my circumstances change, but the truth is when that happens who knows what other circumstances will have changed?
oh well, back to the drawing board!