I Didn't Know I Had It In Me...

I have been a volunteer with boxer rescue since we adopted Duke 4 years ago.  I mostly stuck to home visits, owner surrenders, fundraising and writing.  Mostly, behind the scenes stuff.  I had a reason for this, a reason that up until recently, I thought was very valid.  You see, I'm a softie.  I'm a big hearted gal, that doesn't take things lightly.  I didn't think that I could walk into a shelter and "pull" a dog.

About 2 months ago, the area coordinator for 407 sent out a plea for someone to be the liaison between Florida Boxer Rescue and The Osceola County Animal Services.   It's close to home, and no one else seemed to be stepping up to the plate, so you know me, I thought "What the heck?  What's involved?"  The coordinator's exact words to me, "It hardly ever happens...." The way that this would work is if they get a boxer in, they would call us (me) and ask me to come take a look at the dog and evaluate the boxer.  I would then take the information back to the pull committee and get permission to "pull" the boxer.  Despite the fact that I don't do well in animal shelters, I accepted the post.

Earlier this week, I got an email about a heart worm positive brindle boy.  1st thing Saturday morning, I was in the car driving to OCAS.  I cannot lie, I was scared to death to walk in there.  I knew the sight of all of those abandoned animals in cages was going to be a huge heartbreaker for me.  But, I also had committed myself to doing it.  Besides, if I can kick cancer's ass, I should be able to walk through an animal shelter right?

So, in I went.  My first meeting with the brindle boy was heart breaking.  He was scared to death and very skittish.  He was skinny, and scared.  I didn't want to leave him there, but I didn't have a foster home lined up for him, so I had no choice.  I drove him with the wheels in my head spinning like crazy.  I immediately posted to our volunteer group, and our adoption committee... I wanted a firm plan to have him out by Monday morning at the latest, even though I didn't want to leave him there over the weekend.

The next few hours were a complete miracle.  Angels came out of no where, and before I knew it, I was back in the car and headed for OCAS to get the brindle boy out.  We had a foster home!  I wasn't sure the boy was going to come with me, he seemed so terrified.  But, I grabbed the leash, looked at him and said "You're out here, sweetie!  Let's go!"  He hopped in the car and sat right up!

I won't lie, he slept most of the way to Tampa.  When we got there, I really wanted to spend a little quality time with him, and the foster family was stuck in traffic, so it all worked out.  I put the tailgate down, he hopped right up, and I followed.  We spent the next 25 minutes in the back of the pickup truck, it didn't take him long at all to curl right up in my lap!  By the time his foster family arrived, we were good friends.  He was wiggling, and happy and definitely acting like a boxer boy!  And he had a name by that point.  His foster mom suggested "KIRBY" and it definitely fit him.

It was hard to let him go, I was definitely enamored with him.  But, I knew he was going to a wonderful home where he will get lots of love, tons of food, and the medical treatment that he needs.  Golly, what a difference 8 hours makes.  I was thrilled to receive a text from his foster family last evening that he was settling in well, and had a nice hot bath!  The perfect end to the perfect day.

Welcome to FBR, Kirby!