Two years ago, on this date, I met an adopter who wanted to adopt Mocha Bean, a beautiful black-and-tan Dobie girl I had fostered for nearly two months.
What was supposed to happen was I picked her up from the owners who were turning her in, drive her to the couple with the little white dog who wanted to adopt her, and that was that. The former owners said Mocha was good with little dogs as she lived with a Jack Russel Terrier.
I’m not sure what they meant by “good,” but maybe it was more along the lines of “little dogs taste good to Mocha.” When I brought Mocha into her new home, she wanted to swallow the little old white dog. So I had to haul her back to my house. Lord Almighty! She was THE most challenging foster I ever had. She played with the other dogs while her hair stood on ends!
And she bossed everyone around with her big mouth.
Her personality required dedication by the right person. So I was thankful when just that dedicated person applied for her and lived less than a mile away. Because Mocha is a magnificent beauty, I had had applications from all over. One man applied for her who lived in Canada and was willing to drive the distance to adopt her. I don’t adopt further away than I can drive to pick up the Dobie if need be. And Mocha might need picking up, I thought.
The good news was she didn’t need picking up, and her owner has brought her a long long way in two years.
Mocha’s one of two Dobies I’ve had that has a silver-dollar-sized spot on the paw of each leg. The other is an old geezard red male who is wobbly on his paws and spunky in spirit. I sometimes wonder if he’s not responsible for Mocha’s creation in some distant way.
Meanwhile, I have to say a prayer of thanks that God brought the right person into Mocha’s life, and especially that Mocha’s living with her and not me.
