I can be impulsive, no doubt. I often tend to go with my gut. In many instances my gut instinct has resulted in blessings; in others, curses ... OK, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration, but my gut has steered me wrong at times, as well.
The first dog I ever owned as an adult? I impulsively drove about four hours to meet him and, of course, brought him home with me. He was the best dog I ever owned, though I only had him for half of his life, and he died at the age of 10 from lymphoma.
Since my gut proved 100 percent right with that dog, C-Diddy, and since I couldn't stand not having a dog greet me when my son and I returned from work and daycare at the end of the day, especially since our house was unusually quiet because I had separated from my husband and his dog went with him ...well, when a friend told me "I know you're not a 'little dog' person, but if you know of anyone looking, I've got one at my barn needing a home," I found myself, three days after putting CD down, driving over an hour to fetch that lil dog.
It may not have been the best decision, but he's ours still, six years later ... a year after getting lil dog, I ended up with another lil dog, who I had hoped would be a "companion dog" for the other. The two aren't really companions but co-exist, and my animal situation is nothing like it was back in the day with CD.
Not willing to risk turning our current home into a three-dog household, we decided to foster dogs this year through a rescue organization. Impulsively, of course.
I immediately fell in love with my first foster, a big dog (golden/shep mix) ...even though he destroyed a door in my house due to his separation anxiety. He was worth it though, and heck, I kind of needed to replace that door anyway.
I feared I would be a foster failure, but I survived letting him go to his forever home, and then we took another, and then another, placing them in permanent homes, as well.
My gut hasn't steered me wrong with fostering ... at least not thus far. And one thing I wanted to happen did -- we kind of shook up the dog hierarchy in the house. I've found myself working with my own dogs more, and I think they're just happy that when one dog leaves, it's not either one of them.
I decided to take some time off from fostering, considering I have enough stress right now, as well as extra-curricular weekend and sports activities with my boy. But then I saw this one the other day ... his little face ... and well, you know, I've been foster-free for three or four entire weeks ... so maybe?
Impulsively, I drove to the shelter he's at during a lunch break ... the dog had not yet been vetted, not tested for heart-worms, still unaltered ... and the staff at the shelter was difficult to work with, considering I was there representing a rescue organization.
And so I did something I didn't expect to do ... I drove away without pre-paying for him, without committing, and without a dog in my backseat. I went with my gut today, and spoke with the head of our rescue, and she agreed I did the right thing.
We'll keep an eye on him to see if he gets adopted ... to see when/if they vet him, etc., and I'll just think on it. That's kind of something I need practice at anyway.
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