Sep 27 2005

Pup 1: Morticia

Published by at 7:00 pm under Foster Dogs

September 2005

The first dog we fostered was Felicia, who’d been saved from the pound that morning. “Felicia” is a perfectly fine name if you happen to be a petite, buxom woman with frosty pink lipstick, but not if you’re a dog.

To be honest, I wasn’t fostering her out of altruism. It was, to be politically incorrect, a rent-to-own situation: i.e., foster to adopt.

The first thing I had to do was to dissuade Felicia from killing the cats, an activity she pursued with joie de vivre 24 hours a day. The second thing I needed was an alternate name for her: one that would sound familiar to Felicia’s infected ears but that wouldn’t compromise my dignity when I had to call her at the dog park.

Morticia was beautiful, gentle and sweet, but if anyone ever needed Ritalin it was she. Here she is after I’d turned my back for 45 seconds; she’s, uh, reading my library book called Understanding Your Pet.

This is from the summary I wrote about her for the dog adoption web site:

If a kind, patient person will take the time to teach her good manners — how not to jump for joy when she meets someone new, how to treat the kitchen trash as something other than a treasure chest — he or she will be rewarded with an affectionate and loyal partner for life.

I neglected to mention another little habit of hers: prancing around with a cigar-like object protruding from her delicate black lips, after she’d paid a visit to the cat box.

The most fun we had together was during our visits to the beach.

Morticia stayed with us for a month as she recovered from spay surgery and some minor medical conditions. Every day I wanted to keep her, yet every day her enthusiasm for cat massacre remained undiminished. With leaden heart I took her back to Milo, where I hoped a catless someone would discover her. Only a few days later a family did adopt her. They apparently had the taste to deem “Felicia” too girly-girl but, if you ask me, “Nala” wasn’t any better. Even more unfortunate, she proved to be too much for that family and landed back at Milo. I hope someone patient has whisked her to a life of contentment.

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