So Mommy and Daddy saw a picture of some poor little Husky in a shelter, and none of the other rescues had taken him because one of his legs was injured and he wasn't walking on it. He had been at the city shelter since August 18th, and no one had cleaned his cut or even done anything about his fleas! Everyone thought that he would need surgery, and we weren't sure if anyone could foster him, and Mommy told Daddy that he was "running out of time". I'm not sure what that means, but it really worried them.
Then Daddy called some old friends who worked at a vet's office and asked if they could help out a rescue dog. They said yes, they would be glad to see him and give a discount for the rescue. That was very nice. Then someone in the rescue said they could foster him. So on Friday someone from the rescue got him out of the shelter and Mommy and Daddy met her and picked up the poor guy. They took him to the nice vet's office, and they checked him out, put some stuff on him to get rid of his fleas, cleaned the cut on his foot, and took some x-rays of it. He needs to take medicines for a few parasites and for the infected foot, but he'll be okay, which is good. Mommy and Daddy said he was scared, but very good and he didn't growl or anything. He seemed a little more scared of men, he kept leaning on my Mommy and seemed to feel safe with her. He better not give her fleas!
Then Mommy and Daddy brought him home to our house, just for the night, until they could take him to the lady who was going to foster him. I was so curious to meet him, and I wanted to play so bad! At first he wagged his tail like he wanted to meet me, but then he seemed to get scared, and he backed away and growled. Maybe it's because I got so excited that I jumped up and yelled "Owowowowow!" But I was being friendly! Then Mommy put me in the bedroom with all my toys, my food and water, put flea stuff on me, and then gave me a Kong full of peanut butter and closed the door!
I was in shock. What did they think they were doing? I could hear them out there with the puppy, fussing over him, getting him food and water, talking to him. What was I, invisible? I heard Mommy say "I'd love to foster him, but we just don't have the space. We need a yard." Daddy said "Yeah, it would be so much fun to foster this little guy. After a while he probably wouldn't be afraid of Indy anymore."
Well, if that word "foster" means that I would get shut in the bedroom, then I think that idea stinks! Anyway, that little guy is with his foster mom now. I heard she gave him a bath. Good thing, he stunk something fierce!
I don't see what the big deal was about him. Here are some pictures that my humans took of the little street begger. On MY bed, no less! Which I couldn't lay on until Mommy had washed the cover and sprayed the mattress with flea spray, because the little street begger was also a flea hotel!
Then the little interloper spent the night in MY crate. Which I couldn't use again until Mommy sprayed the inside with flea spray and let it dry. He also had the nerve to jump up on the couch the next morning. Mommy dropped him off to the lady who will foster him. Then she came back, sprayed the entire condo with flea spray, and she and I left and spend the day at Grandma and Grandpa's house. Which was fun, because I got to run in the yard and play with my cousin Henny. But that was quite a disruption! I decided I did not really care for it. If the humans want to take in street beggers then I will need to have my own separate quarters that will be kept flea free. And they can forget about shutting my in the bedroom. I resent that!