Today's the day!

We're out the door to catch the train to the airport in 45 minutes--and counting.

The bag's packed: duplicate contract, poo-bags, water and dish, towels, paper towels, baby wipes, leash, collar, tags, and (they said no feeding, but) teeny tiny pieces of dried chicken to rub on my fingers. Just for a pleasant first greeting with smells. Not enough to make her throw up.

And the travel crate, lined with a large bath towel. We're taking a taxi back. I'm so excited I think I might throw up.

*soaks head*

How to stay calm counting down the hours before your dog arrives...

... got no clue.

Two days until Lily is here, and part of me is scared. Is this the right thing to do? Is she the right dog for us? Am I the right person for her?  And I'm full of doubt.

And another part of me knows that all I can do is give her a safe space where she can relax, eat, sleep, look around without fear. No demands, no expectations. I need to be strong so she can feel safe.

Home visit

Home visit went well, and pretty pleasantly. 

But you did get a sense of how off-base some potential adopters can be. 

Now we wait for Lily's turn on the plane.  (WHEEE!!!!!!)

Oh, I love her already.  shhhh...

Patience

We're riding out the heat wave this week, and hoping Lily is okay. Then I remember, she's in the south of Spain. This is nothing.

Or rather,  she's had 5years of this without me adjusting the fan in her direction and putting an ice cube in her water. She's had much worse.

She's earmarked as reserved,  but going through 12 pages of 'reserved' dogs, I realize she's the most recent.  Ergo, last in line. These other dogs are luckyducks who got chosen, too. They need to fly to their new homes, too.

I have my weather page set on Malaga, Spain. And we wait.

Lily (shelter name Nisa) with Fabienne, the lady who runs the rescue