Last week, I picked up “Floyd” as the newest temporary member of the Broussard clan.
Floyd was a rescue pup, just as Dennis was and through the same organization.
Everything told me to say no, that the timing was wrong and that I was unavailable to foster at the moment.
It was the husband’s birthday week. It was a week of approximately 5,000 deadlines that were coming due. It was the week of one of the only home games I planned on attending. It was the week I was hosting the Cookoff Before Kickoff crew in my home (more on that later).
It was the week that everything was leading me to simply say no.
But the desperation in the leader of the organization’s voice was something that I just didn’t have it in my heart to ignore. They were in the process of rescuing multiple dogs from a backyard breeder and another handful from some freakazoid Amish puppy mill. With more dogs than foster families I said yes.
Yes to providing him a safe home, a cozy bed, and the promise of daily meals.
Yes to promising him that he would no longer be forced to be a reproduction machine.
Yes to showing him that he is one of God’s creations and deserving of compassion and affection.
Yes to teaching him that the same human race who mistreated him, was also capable of adoring him.
And despite my selfishness of what I may or may not have had going on last week; yes.
I said yes.
He came to us frightened, shaking, and barely willing to leave the safety of his crate.
His hair had to be cut to remove the fleas and matting that happens over 17 months of neglect. His ears infected and in need of treatment. And of course, that same manhood that was used for human profit needed to be removed.
And despite everything this little guy has been through, in no more than a week’s time he has begun to show the resilience and companionship that the Cavalier breed is known for. He has learned to snuggle. He has learned that a cozy home and a soft bed to rest his head is so much better than a life spent in a backyard….and boy is he savoring it. He has learned what treats are and approves.
He hasn’t come without issues but if there were ever a boy who wanted to please, it’s this little guy.
This morning, a week after I brought him into my home I sat down to write his bio and take his photos for him to be placed online for adoption.
Without warning, I broke into tears with uncontrollable sobbing with fingers unable to hit the send button.
I saved the email in my draft folder and gave myself some time to think. I even asked for an extension in posting his information until Friday.
Can we handle a 3rd dog?
Are we crazy for considering a 3rd dog?
If Stella & Milo could speak, what would they say? And how will this affect them?
I looked into Floyd’s gorgeous eyes and I knew. I knew exactly why my eyes were flooding with tears and my fingers paralyzed from emailing his bio.
I watched Stella & Milo choose to sleep next to his crate while he slept and I knew their decision, too.
I knew that he belonged with us.
“You mean I get to stay here FUR-ever????”
And so we scheduled his adoption and renamed him Murphy rather than calling him Floyd because let’s face it, Floyd? No.
He’s a tiny 19 pounder so we named him Murphy and call him Murph….Murph the Smurf.
And just like that, Murphy makes three!
The three amigos- Stella, Milo & Murph
And honestly, we probably are a little crazy.
But I’d rather be crazy with too big of a heart than no heart at all.