And, we are a two-dog household. It happened so fast, I can hardly believe it. Monday, we were driving home from a long weekend out of town. Norm was kind enough to take over the second half of the driving because my legs were feeling antsy, so I was using my passenger status to look at Facebook, where I saw a message from a friend, saying that a local rescue organization was frantically looking for a foster home for a female Boston Terrier. I read the message to Norm, we looked at each other, and we agreed instantly we should call and find out more. What we were told on the first call is that the dog was about six years old and had been used as a mill mama at an Amish farm nearby. They were ready to surrender her, but the rescue coordinator was out of personal space and did not want to pick the dog up unless she was sure she could place her in a foster. We asked the coordinator for a few minutes to discuss while we were riding, and a few minutes later called her back to say we would commit by phone to taking her, and would fill out the foster application as soon as we got home, which we then did. Tuesday around midday, I was told that the dog would be picked up later in the afternoon. Around 4:00, I got a photo of her, looking scared but oh-so-sweet. And tiny--my gosh, compared to Wilbur, our loving "oaf"--she is about 1/3 his size. If that. By 5:00 she was at our house. I couldn't believe how much she resembled Edna, the Boston Terrier Norm had before we had married (and the first Boston I fell in love with). The rescue coordinator sat with me in the house, and gave me lots of tips, because we had never done this before. Then we decided to work our way outside to see if she would pee for me. She had been called "Ann" by the Amish (original!) and she comes when called. But a collar, a leash, hardwood and tile floors--all new. We stayed with her in the yard for quite awhile, Norm got home from work and I could tell from his expression that he was immediately in love with this little girl. And the feeling seemed to be mutual--she allowed him to hold her, and she was full of kisses for him. All this time, Wilbur was in the house, in a room with the door closed. At the point where we thought we were ready, we brought him out to be introduced to her--both of them on leash. He was his usual, over-enthusiastic self, barking and trying to lunge. We have tried and tried to break him of this, without success yet. Honestly, it's not mean behavior, he just gets so excited and doesn't seem to have any concept of how big or strong he is. So, we kept ample distance and tried to stay very calm, knowing that both of them would absorb and reflect our energy levels. By the end of the evening, they were both in the house, off leash, and occupying their own spaces. Wilbur tried once or twice to get Ann to play with him, by bringing her a toy, but she has no idea what to do with a toy. The concept of play is unknown to this little one. Today she goes to the vet to have all her shots brought up to date, to be spayed, and to get micro-chipped. Then we can start to work on familiarizing her with the elements of a dog's life that she hasn't had the privilege of experiencing--healthy food, intentional exercise, a comfortable, safe space to sleep, the joy of play. The reality of this little dog's life is that if she had been left on this farm another day or two, she would probably have been disposed of. Who got lucky? I think we both did. You bet, we'll be making our intentions known to adopt this little one into her forever home.