Reader, he married us

Wow! It has been thirteen days since my last Bruno blog. Forgive me readers. I have not kept you abreast of Bruno's progress to health or his forever home. I will say "Bruno, sit!" twenty times and make a donation to a no kill shelter.

This morning, Dr. Clary will make a drive-by stop at our house on her day off to check on Bruno's right eye, which is still healing from a shallow ulcer she spotted earlier this month. Bruno is very tired of me trying to squirt various oinments in it, but even I can see the ulcer and it bothers him. We can only speculate on its origins--whether his entropion caused it or it is a complication of the laser surgery--but it is tiresome to all. With his shaved eye area, pinky-red eyelid tissue, and tendency to wince, he looks a bit like he just recovered from a fist-fight.

Overall, Bruno is doing extremely well. No longer in constant pain, no longer on pain-killers, his ear infection cleared up, worms gone, and enjoying a steady diet of Nutro and love, he is positively a joyous puppy. He's willful and throws his weight around, but he truly wants to please.

A little over a week ago, he met the man who was interested in adopting him and it went well. We made tentative arrangements for him to meet the man's roommate and other dog, but neither side followed through that weekend. It was a long weekend for us. We were heartbroken at the thought of giving him up. I cried all the way to Kingsbury Animal Hospital that Saturday morning anticipating his departure. We never expected to get so deeply attached. We have plenty to take care of around here without him and every time he makes a mistake and say, chews the corner off the coffee table, I think "well, that's it. He needs to go to his forever home." But then I spray the room with sour apple stuff and he nuzzles into my hip for a rub and I forgive him.

Still, we thought that the problem was more ours than his. We thought he would make the transition to his forever home just fine. Who were we fooling? I knew we were in trouble when we were leaving for work one morning and just before we pulled away, I realized I had forgotten something and had to run back up to the house for it. When I got to the door I heard Bruno on the other side. Crying. Like a baby.

Another day I watched from the kitchen as Bruno and Greta played in the backyard. Usually, their games involved Greta needling Bruno constantly until he reacted, but on this day I saw that their game had evolved. Bruno was crouched in the "down dog" yoga position, "hiding" behind a red rubber ball and preparing to pounce on Greta who was supposes to be acting like she couldn't see him, but actually was standing there barking until Bruno made his move. Which he did, and they did a joyous hot lap around the yard bouncing and flinging themselves at one another. They do more than cohabitate, they have formed a bond.

As I write this, Bruno lies at my side. Jay and I know that we cannot let him go, that he found us. As the vet tech said to me, he chose us for a reason. He bonded so quickly, so deeply, that I think it would almost be cruel to place him in another home at this point. Oh sure, his new people would love him and work with him and he'd come to bond with them, but I worry that he'd always feel a stab of insecurity, that he'd develop an attachment disorder. Like any of us who've been loved and left, he'd wonder if he could ever trust anyone again. And at his size, with his jaws, his grief could be problemmatic. As it is, when he goes ballistic with energy, you best stand back. He is still shy meeting men; you can tell from his fearful approach that he expects to be hit. Past the initial meeting, he'll settle down. Is it really fair to bounce him around to another home if we have a choice?

Years ago I became a foster parent, primarily to take care of one troubled young boy who would have wound up in the system, medicated and slated for a future in prison. He was a wonderful young boy and in our short time together, I did the best I could to redirect his fate. I haven't heard from him in a few years now, but I know he's doing well. It's a long story and not one I have time to tell here, but the point is, I realized first hand what an emotional toll fostering and being fostered can exact. In the best of all situations, love underscores all interactions. Yet the knowledge that this encounter will be brief can be excruciating. At least it is for me. I never foster parented again because I knew I didn't have the emotional stamina for it. I get too attached. Why did I think it was going to be different with Bruno?

Perhaps I project my attachment disorder on the dog. Perhaps not. Maybe we really are soulmates and I put up with chewed furniture, hours of extra housekeeping, another several months of training a young dog (which we have so recently done with our Greta) for a higher spiritual reason. Perhaps there is a zen lesson in all of this seemingly menial work.

The fact is, Bruno is family now. In spite of our best intentions, we aren't ready to go through the heartbreak of losing him.

The community who has come out to support him is remarkable and I feel so lucky to have experienced the love and support for an abused and homeless dog from folks who haven't even met him. Along the way, so many of you opened your wallets and also shared stories of your own amazing rescue dogs. I was delighted to learn how many of you out there work with animal shelters. And I am also amazed to learn how many no kill shelters are out there, doing the difficult work of rescuing and nurturing homeless animals of all stripes with very little public awareness. There's a proverbial underground animal rescue network out there that is full of unsung heroes.

Yes, we are keeping Bruno. And heartfelt thanks go out to all of you who helped him through his crisis. You were so generous that we do have funds left over from his surgeries which we will be donating to Rainbow Rescue, who have been so helpful and supportive of our mini rescue effort.

I'll be posting updates--at least a few more--as I can.