Prep Tony's Adoption

Tony has two more days at the Farnival. On Saturday morning, I’ll take him for his final walk with our pack. Immediately after, he’ll leave for his new home in Terre Haute, Indiana. He was three weeks old when he arrived here, and he’ll be five months old when he leaves. We’re all he’s ever known.

Mason and I put a lot of effort into Tony. We wanted to because he’s the last of Dawn’s litter. After she birthed nineteen puppies, we felt like we owed it to her. Besides socializing Tony, we house, leash, and crate-trained him plus taught him hand signals for sitting and high-fives. He’s been fixed and vaccinated. He rides like a dream in the car. He knows manners, such as sitting and waiting for his food and treats. He never begs.

Like most endeavors involving dogs, all our time training him was rewarded a thousand times over. I’ve honestly never met such a jovial little creature. Tony is the kind of puppy that has never, ever met a stranger and his open-pawed acceptance of everybody and anybody inspired me on a daily basis.

The days before a foster dog leaves are never easy, but with Tony it’s particularly hard. Yesterday, Mason had to fly to Texas for work, so he said his goodbyes early. I watched him pick Tony up and hold him above his head, while that puppy’s tail whipped back and forth, as though anticipating some kind of new game. “Take care of you,” Mason said before he lost it, cursed, and left.

As for me, I’m trying not to think about Saturday morning at the same time I’m compiling a list entitled “Preparations for T-bone” So far, it includes: wash his favorite blanket, remove his Farnival dog tag, give him a bath, pack his dog food, leash, and a few rawhides. A list makes Tony’s leaving sound so simple and efficient, yet it’s anything but.