Charleston Townhomes Are A Great Move.

Really? Yes, really. Please understand that, yes, I am a Realtor. I am also a Sales and Marketing Manager for a home builder, so the time that I spend studying statistics, comps and every other thing that a normal person does not want to do, is kind-of my job. For well over 10 years, my days have consisted of trying to make sense of the articles that inundate my inbox every day as well as the haze of MLS comps. I am very fortunate that I absolutely love what I do.

But I am going to "take those hats off" for a little bit. I am going to put on my

"buyer" /common-sense hat for a little bit.

(Ok...so the Realtor/Sales and Marketing manager in me will have to peek through just a little bit...it's not something that I can "turn off and on" but I promise you that I will try my best. :) ) 
I'm not going to inundate you with all those statistics and facts--I am simply going to give you my opinion of what I see taking place in the market.

Charleston is, in-arguably one of the most desired places to live in all of the United States. All of the United States. Do you realize how wonderful that is and how lucky we are? Do you realize how much that affects the VALUE of homes in the Charleston area? 

If everyone wanted a Louis Vuitton bag, (and come on, who DOESN'T?!?!?), don't you think Mr. Louis Vuitton is going to price his bags accordingly? If EVERYONE wanted a Porsche 911 Carrera, (and come on, who DOESN'T?!?!?!), don't you think Porsche is going to value their cars accordingly?

Okay--you got me. You say “But you are paying so much more for QUALITY when you buy Louis Vuitton or Porsche."  Really?? I have no doubt that a  Louis Vuitton bag or a Porsche Carrera are well-made, well-built articles/machines. But, let's get real with ourselves--aren't we paying just a little more just for the name?? Yep. We sure are. 

Look at the price of homes the closer your move toward downtown, peninsular Charleston. The areas that are closest to downtown, such as James Island, West Ashley and Mount Pleasant, have different values and pricing than homes that are in the more outward areas. So, AREN'T WE KIND-OF PAYING FOR THE CHARLESTON NAME? Yep. We sure are. 

So how does this relate to townhomes? Ok. I'm getting to it.
LAND. With the influx of companies that have moved to the area, the wonderful universities and hospitals that are here, and about 100 other reasons that Charleston is such a great place to live, there are A LOT of people already here and coming here. Not to mention that we are seeing more and more young people waiting to get married later in life (Yay people!!), but, unfortunately, divorce rates are rising---so there are a lot of 1-income homes out there. I don't see this changing anytime soon. That puts an understandable strain on what type and where a home is affordable; As in the case in lots of places across America.

We all want nice things. It's only human nature. We want the nice hardwood floors, we want the granite countertops, the nice-sized garage. And we want things to be convenient. Convenience, often times, goes hand in hand with location.

SO.... let's just take the average young professional couple starting out looking for their first home. They don't have a lot of money to put down on a home, haven't had time to build up a lot of savings yet but here's their wish-list: A 3 Bedroom/2.5 Bath home with a nice fenced-in backyard, a nice garage and of course ALL the latest luxury features including hardwood floors and granite countertops. Did I mention the stainless steel appliances and that they MUST be within a 20-minute drive to work radius and all the greatest "places to be?" (Oh sweethearts, just wait a few years. You'll really only care about the best happy hour place and how far you have to drive to daycare for your kid...but that's a whole DIFFERENT story and day...:) ) 

Ok. Here's the problem. Charleston's home and land prices have escalated so much that, at a certain price point, in certain areas, the items on one's wish-list becomes pretty impossible to find and  are simply just a “wish-list”. I hear the same story over and over and over. "We really want a yard and we hate the idea of being attached to someone else--that's kind of like an apartment isn't it, living in a condo?!?!” 

Time- out. Hold the press. (Sorry...have to put that "Realtor hat" back on for a second...) There is a MAJOR difference between a condo and a townhome. Most townhomes are deeded as single-family ATTACHED homes. That means you own the land that your home is sitting on. In a condo purchase, you usually own a percentage of the complex. So, yes, you own the inside of your home, but the exterior is part of a larger group of what you own as a percentage.

Ok, back to those features and location. What if you could have those nice features and a great location, could actually afford it and weren't stacked on top of another house? Well, YOU CAN. And the option is a TownHOME. 

Find yourself a nice townhome community and you could have that yard mowed FOR you AND a fenced in backyard for Fido. And you will still have the money to go out to dinner at the nearby restaurant.

But let me play cynic for a second-- Go ahead get yourself that single-family DETACHED home. 

During the Spring and Summer, one day a week after work or on the weekend is going to be dedicated to mowing and weeding the lawn. Or you could pay someone--at least $100. There goes 2 dinners.

At least one to two days a week are going to go to working on replacing that salmon colored tile in your master bath and ripping up carpet to put down something from 2014. Maybe you'll replace those lack-luster orange countertops from 1972 next year... Just keep piling stuff on the kitchen counter. No one will ever notice them!

And that house built in the '70s-- well, dear, this month you have a roof leaf, next month your HVAC goes out, and let's say you get lucky and go a whole 3 months before your plumbing starts leaking. At some point EVERYTHING IN LIFE starts breaking down. That's just the way it goes. (The wrinkle cream on my bathroom counter is proof enough...:) )

So....you now have your chores finished this week. The grass is mowed, the tile is replaced and we're ready to hit the town for dinner with friends. (Finally. It's been a long week!)

Wait a second. "Honey, what's our Visa balance?" Well crap. I guess we'll just stay in and look at our new floors and make hot dogs. I can totally run over to Trader-Joe's and pick up some "2-buck Chuck"!”

Yes. I am being dramatic. WAY dramatic. A lot of older homes have very few problems and a lot of them have been re-done and taken care of by the time you buy them. (Though I'd argue that they start pricing themselves out of a lot of people's budget...) And I make it sound like buying a townhome is more of a compromise than anything else and I’m a “big ‘ol Avondale and Old Village dream –crusher.” Well, I’m NOT and sometimes it CAN be a compromise. But very GOOD compromise.
It warms my heart to see the young couple that bought their townhome from me many years ago packing up their home and moving with their new baby to their new home. It also makes me happy that they have made some of the best friends they've ever had right outside their front door, in their very own neighborhood; Friendships that will last past their days at their first townhome and into their new home and life.

STILL. That charming cottage down the street in walking distance from the great brunch spots and park with the cute little picket fence? SO CUTE!!! I don't care if I have to sit at home for 500 Saturdays and mow my own grass 5000 times. IT. WILL. BE. MINE. 

Like I said before, we're all human, and it's in our nature to want nice things and "want what we want."

But let's be smart about this people. Why not make that first purchase one that doesn’t keep you up at night worrying about how you will pay for that roof or plumbing leak? Why not wait until a few of those student loans are paid off before you tackle such a feat? Why not take that money and put it into something that you will be PROUD to invite your friends over to see and then STILL be able to go shopping with the girls on Saturday and have a nice dinner out that night?

I am not going to sit here and tell you that the price of a townhome will appreciate as quickly as a single-family DETACHED home. I am also not going to tell you that, Heaven Forbid, when and if we hit another recession, that your property value will not drop a little bit more than a single family detached home. I won't. But I also am not going to tell you that it is worth sacrificing the nice food and outings that living in Charleston affords you for Ramen noodles and $1 Movie Night.
But maybe it is to YOU. And that's fine. I just ask you not to fool or trap yourself into the single-family ATTACHED stigma and to

THINK ABOUT YOUR OPTIONS. 

Consider it. Take a look at some of the newer townhomes out there in some GREAT areas.

Pay your mortage instead of the sky-high Charleston rent and gain some equity in your home. Take a little of the money that you would have pulled out of your own pocket to upgrade those orange laminate kitchen countertops to something that was made in this decade, and put it away in your "Cottage Fund". Take a night that you would have normally gone OUT to dinner and invite some friends over to have a nice dinner at your home--with your fancy countertops and floor as backdrop, mind you. They will ooh and ahh over your granite countertops, your hardwood floors and your gleaming new ceramic tile.

And then maybe you can go over to their house next year and have dinner. That's if they ever get those %#^@%%! hardwood floors finished!!! 

Disclaimer: Please note that I am just writing about what I am seeing on a more and more frequent basis with the first-time buyers, their budgets and people that want and need a smaller amount of money going out the door each month, but still want the "niceties" in a home. Just consider it!

Thank you, Petey. For more than you could ever know.

Tomorrow is a day of mixed emotions but a day that I must admit, I have dreaded with a vengeance all year.  November 3rd marks one year since I said goodbye to my Petey. One year since I held his paws in my hands, laid on the floor with him and let the doctor take him from me. One year since I literally felt my heart being physically pulled from my chest. I would have actually preferred that physical pain to what really happened.

For those of you that know anything about euthanasia, there are 2 steps. The "calming" shot which relaxes them enough so that they can proceed with the final injection and so that everything goes as peaceful as possible. I was so adamant about not wanting Pete to be muzzled for either process (It seemed so much like restraining someone on death row) but for the safety of the doctors and vet techs we did muzzle him for a few seconds just so they could give him the relaxant. Honestly, he never moved and didn't fight it. Never fought the muzzle and never fought me putting it on him. Very "un-Pete-like". As soon as that part was done, I quickly took the muzzle off but he didn't even move his head. I don't think he really even needed the 2nd injection---I think he would have drifted off to sleep simply because his body could not process anything at that point and a strong sedative would have been enough. He was ready. He had been ready. I just wasn't ready and hadn't been able to do it. I am so sorry that I was not stronger for you, Petey.

Pete was not just any dog, this was my child with four legs instead of two, who taught me more about the importance of certain people/animals in our lives, as well as second chances, than any human ever could.
I didn't have the appointment scheduled as a euthanasia appointment. I knew all week that I had the appointment scheduled as a "consult" but I knew in my heart and mind exactly what was going to be said. We had been to so many specialists; We basically had tried everything but I just kept thinking that there was that one magic potion or therapy that we hadn't tried. It had come down to "quality of life" at this point. When Pete used the bathroom all over himself, fell out of the car and couldn't get up and the vets and vet techs watched,  I knew exactly what I had to do. I still feel bad that I didn't do something "special" with Pete once I had scheduled that appointment that week--but honestly, just being together with him and him sitting outside in the sunshine were special. And he had long surpassed any walks on the beach or park. He couldn't even walk down the street anymore very easily.

I had become a hospice nurse for Pete the last 6 months or so of his life. Before you condemn me for not letting him go before, please know that he was at ALL TIMES on heavy doses of pain medication and physically, I do not think that he was suffering until right at the very end. He couldn't eat certain things because his kidneys were failing, he used the bathroom on himself and everywhere, standing up and sitting down required more effort than a triathalon. It resembled a young fawn learning to walk. This once proud chow was a bit embarrassed about wearing diapers but he did it for me. : )  I carried this once healthy, 60 pound chow/lab, who had now dwindled down to 40, up and down the stairs because I wanted him beside my bed every night. Honestly, I prayed that I would just look over and he would have peacefully died in his sleep.  Sometimes I would have to get down on the floor just to see if his chest was moving because his breaths had become so shallow while he slept. Finally, when I realized it was time, I did start ordering him pizza and letting eat whatever he wanted because that was always his favorite food. : ) And it was between this and starvation at that point.

But I swear Pete would not give up. A part of me believes that had I not let him go peacefully, he would still be here. It would  be an awful existence but I believe that is how much he loved me. I know why he wouldn't give up--it was for me. He knew that the loss of him would completely devastate me. Honestly, I think he knew better than I did. I knew it would be a devastating loss, but never in a million years could I have imagined that it would have been as devastating as it was.

I was in a severe grief coma for a good 6 months. For 2-3 months, I could not even function. Doctors had me on medication simply so that I could try and make it through the work day without a complete break-down and could wait until I got in my car to drive home to completely fall apart. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. But it allowed me to continue to semi-work. Looking back, I honestly am not sure how I was able to do it as it had gotten that bad.

I tell you this story of my grief not for sympathy, but as a healing process for myself and more so as a tribute to Pete, how special of a friend he was to me and because I want others to know just how important an animal can be to someone. I want to educate others on the fact that the loss of a special pet can be just as devastating as the loss of a close family member or friend. Pete was not a pure-bred, show dog; he was a little fluffy stray picked up by his father tied to a tree without food, water or shelter. The very best kind. : ) You just never know where love is going to come from. And as bad as it hurt, not once would I ever take back having Pete in my life. I only wish it was longer.

So tomorrow I will sit in my closet with his collar that still has his smell, I will touch the pawprints that the funeral home so kindly made for me in clay, I will hug his "lambie" (his toy that I still sleep with every night) and I will cry my eyes out. I will cry because I miss him so. But I will also cry because I am so lucky to have experienced the unconditional love that Pete brought to my life. Thank you, Pete, for loving me more than anyone. I pray that you are in Heaven running and playing your huge heart out!!!

"I think God will have prepared everything for our perfect happiness. If it takes my dog being there [in Heaven], I believe he'll be there." -Rev. Billy Graham

Have I Imprisoned My Own Heart?

I have been lucky enough to experience true love in my life. A couple of times. The kind of love, that I believe, if you have ever experienced it, you are NEVER the same afterwards and you can NEVER forget or stop caring for that person deep inside. No, it doesn't mean that you still picture a life with them or miss them to the point of crushing heartbreak like you did at one time, but I think if you have ever REALLY loved something or someone, it is much more than just a simple feeling;  It becomes a permanent part of who you are, imprinted on your soul.


Without going into too much detail, and as many people already know, my entire family, my world, did a complete 360 in a matter of about 5-10 years. Everything that I knew, loved, admired and counted on completely changed.


Along with these serious heartbreaks and changes, I grew and learned more about myself and how to be who I wanted and needed to be--maybe if it was only for that moment to get me through. I became a fairly independent young lady. I threw myself into my work, my dogs, my friends and pretty much anything OTHER than a relationship because I never ever wanted to let anything have the kind of emotional control over me that the loss of a true love did. And honestly, there was a huge part of me that felt ashamed and undeserving. Ashamed of what had happened in my life. Ashamed to have been on the sidelines of such a train-wreck and not have helped. Partially because I was off fulfilling my own dreams.

Needless to say, because of my hard work, I was pretty certain that by this time in my life I would be living in a large city and the Queen of American Real Estate. : ) Well, let's just say that hasn't happened. But I have worked my butt off to get where I am and I feel that I have accomplished a lot for my age.

I guess what I am getting at here, is that I am now questioning if I have closed myself off so far from getting hurt anymore, as to whether or not I can ever let myself be vulnerable again to TRULY open my heart to someone again. Have I imprisoned my own heart? I know, and truly believe, that you have to open up your heart to experience the joy and love that comes from this life... but that's easier said than done. We look at the news everyday and see such horrible news about the economy, horrible shootings and other tragedies...and then I visit a friend a see the light in her 2 year old's eyes and how happy she is to play with her puzzles and just hug me. I see my nieces dance and sing like they have not a care in the world. The cynic in me wants to just wrap them in my arms and never let them get swallowed up by the big, bad world out there. But I know this can't happen. I think that we all, myself included, get so caught up in the "bad" that we forget all the beautiful and wonderful things that we have right in front of us.

So maybe I have closed myself off. Maybe that's why I love dogs so much. They can't really betray you. : )
But I know that I have to open myself back up and enjoy the wonderful life that this world has to offer. Because there are children out there running around dancing and singing and hugging; there are puppies play-biting and snuggling, and there are great people left in this world that is evidenced every day by the good that so many do. Within me, somewhere, is a girl that is strong enough and has enough prozac to take on the world. I know it.

Thanks for letting be do some venting today. : )

Maybe it will all be better in the morning.

I know that everyone has those days. Those days where nothing necessarily goes wrong but somehow you  just seem to be in a "funk". Well, I've felt this "funk" coming on for several days now and it has finally ended with a kleenex-full of of tears and me completely pyscho-analyzing myself and what in the world has gone wrong. Dear Lord there are so many people that have so many more problems...I do not deserve sympathy. But I can't help it...and maybe if I can cry it out, it will all be better in the morning. So...I have a few theories as to why I'm swimming in confusion. Maybe by saying them aloud, I can get them to go away and jump-start my motivation. : )

First of all, I took some vacation time that consisted of more than 24 hours. I rarely do this. And when I do, I usually go into some sort of cardiac arrest. (J/K-but it may as well be true...) My blackberry and I are attached to each other like white on rice. Real estate statistics, construction stats and schedules, website stats, emails and traffic reports are like a drug for me. Now I will admit that every day I was on "vacation" I spent at least an hour checking emails, answering calls and doing other items just to keep the wheels rolling as they should. Quite frankly, if I hadn't of been able to do this, you probably would have seen a nervous breakdown in the middle of Charleston County Water Parks. I think this would have really scared some small children.

Second, because I was on vacation and needed something to do, I decided to start in on a new book. Eat. Love. Pray. was what I selected. Wrong book for a 31 year old, single, childless, work-a-holic female that has bouts of "who the heck am I and what the heck am I doing". I am not sure as to whether I should put this book away or if I should continue on with it. I sure did enjoy the 50 Shades of Grey trilogy a ton more!!! Not a lot of thinking and soul-searching involved but a decent little plot. (Though I will NEVER understand how Anastasia could have such perfectly manicured body hair at all times when she refused to wax?!?!)

Thirdly, I have realized that so many of the things that I enjoyed doing when I was younger have become lost with time. I must start doing them again. I need to start working out again. Not "hard-core" (I have quite the obsessive personality) but I need to just do a little to feel better about myself. I used to love to refinish furniture. I haven't done it in years. I kill pretty much every flower I plant, but I actually really love to plant them. I need to do that. I love taking Molly to the dog park. It's a hike and it's hot...but I should take her on a cooler day. I love being ON the water in a boat. I haven't done that in so long. I love putting Molly on a basket on a bicycle and riding it. I need to get a new one and venture out. I live in one of the most beautiful places anywhere. I need to get out there and explore.

In conclusion, I think I have become a bit regimented and bored. Because my life is usually so consumed by work, when I have a tiny bit of time to myself, I don't think I know what to do with myself. So, I shall work on this. And maybe I will wallow in my self-pity for a little bit, but then I'm sure I'll find a wonderful project to get started on....and then a "crisis" will begin at work and boredom will be nothing more than a fleeting thought... : )

All there is tonight is quiet.

The pillows have been placed back been on the couch. Molly's toys are scattered back around the floor without fear of being ripped apart by a medium-sized brown dog. The trashcans are back to their respective homes without the possibility that they will be tipped over by a jumpy 55 pound visitor. A visitor who has left a permanent mark on our hearts.
Tonight, there is no anxiousness in going to bed wondering what time and how many times I will be awakened to let our little visitor outside or to entertain her because she is bored.
All there is tonight is quiet. And a few tears. However, they are mostly tears of joy and happiness. I admit, selfishly, that there are some tears mixed in there of sadness because I won't be able to hold Steph's paw, have her play-bite me or snuggle her anymore.
I love that little girl and always will. 3 weeks. That's all it took for me to fall in love with her. And to know that she deserved to be in a home with another dog with lots of energy and lots of love.
I will not go into the details, but long story short, I was never supposed to be a real foster parent. However, through certain circumstances, that's exactly what happened. I would not take the experience back for anything, but I want to take this opportunity to commend and thank all of the people that serve as foster parents for animals in these organizations. I have cried, I have gotten angry and gone through every emotion possible during Stephanie's short stay. I will admit to you that I had even decided to myself that people who do this have something wrong with them. Who in their right mind would put themselves through this time and time again and why would you just not keep the dog every time? What loving human could give up an animal after it had shared their life and home with them like this? Ironically, what changed my mind was a simple four-letter word. LOVE.
I really fell in love with Stephanie. Not the "oooh I love you, you're so cute, googley-eyed" kind of love. I mean that I came to love her like my own--I desperately wanted her to be happy, to have the best, not to be in pain, not to be sad, not to be hungry, to always be taken care of. And I would go to any lengths to make sure that this was attained. I realized that Stephanie needed to be in a home with another animal so that she could stay entertained as she was pretty energetic. I also had to think about Molly. I was not being the best mom I could be to her by allowing Stephanie to stay permanently. And obviously I feel that unrelenting love for Molly. There is no way that I would allow Stephanie into any home that was less than wonderful but because she found that, I would be selfish NOT to allow her to live out her full potential. And Molly needed to be able to live out hers.
So, these "foster parent people" are not crazy. They simply allow themselves to experience a lot of pain because seeing the happiness in that dog's eyes when they have found a loving family, is worth going through the emotional roller-coaster. Still, I know that it is not for everyone. It is an incredibly emotionally-charged job that I know not everyone is equipped to handle. But when faced with the situation, and this beautiful animal, I did what I had to do. Could I do it again? I don't know.To those of you that do this on a continual basis, you have my utmost respect and thanks. God bless you.
So...I will start on the house repairs that Stephanie left as a present for me, I will pray for her and her new family, I will keep my love for her in my heart and I will miss her....but I will never, ever forget her.

Among so many other things, I'm thankful for my slip-covered sofa...

As with every day, I am incredibly thankful for so many things. I have a wonderful family, wonderful friends, good health, food to eat, a job that I love, a precious dog, Molly and God's love in my heart. But today, I am especially thankful for a slip-covered sofa. Because if it weren't for this slip-covered sofa, I may have had a breakdown and there would have been a medium-sized brown dog that was fearful for her life. Just kidding on the second part...but in all seriousness, thank Heavens for Prozac... : )

As you know, it has been extremely hot outside. So hot that I think it has everyone going a little coo-coo. Including the dogs. Yesterday morning I let my foster dog Stephanie outside to hang out on the porch and eat her breakfast. This has been our routine for the last couple of weeks.She was out there for about 15 minutes. When I went down to get her, I noticed that she has broken through the screened porch and landed flat on top of a large pampas grass bush. I am sad to say that both must be replaced. Stephanie came away with merely a scratch.

I thought this was the end of her wildness for the day. Oh no. I come home from work to find my couch cushion has been chewed and my "lambie", the stuffed animal of Pete's that I have slept with since the day he passed away, had been "attacked". Many months back I could not find a couch that I really wanted, and I was knee-deep in working on a model home, so I was in full "material shopping" mode, so I just decided to do a slip-cover my couch. Thank God. Stephanie and I would be having many more words if it had been a new couch...and they would not have been very friendly.

Now the part about "Lambie" is just plain sad. I have literally slept cuddled up to him every night since November 3rd. So, I did what normal people would do and I broke out the needle and thread. I was quite impressed with myself. So, I am proud to announce that Lambie's leg is now intact and we snuggled together as normal last night. But this made me start thinking a little bit. Normally when Stephanie tears something apart (and trust me, I have become quite accustomed to it), she really tears it apart and there is no putting it back together. She did not do this to "Lambie". Did she know what Lambie meant to me? Or did Molly start hyperventilating as she saw her chewing on it as she knew what would happen when Mommy saw it? Or was this a sign; A sign that maybe it is time for me to kiss "Lambie" and safely tuck him away in Pete's box within my closet? Maybe it is. And maybe I will. But for a little while longer, Lambie and I will snuggle at night and sleep with our best friend Pete "physically"close to our hearts.

I would like to say that this was the end of "Stephanie's heat wave of craziness". As I tried to fix and clean the couch, my wonderful neighbor offered to take Stephanie off my hands for a little while. I seriously re-considered all the times that I have been judgmental about parents who pass their children off to anyone. "Here, take them!" (Not that my neighbor is "just anyone" but it made me laugh to think of those parents...) As I called to ask him if it would be okay for me to take a bath or if I should come over and pick her up before, he went on to tell me that she was doing great, running in and out the doggie door, etc. Before the words "Have you forgotten about the hole in your back fence?" could get out of my mouth, I heard the phone slam down and him running down the street. Escapee Stephanie. I went outside and she looked like a small, dark brown deer running at full speed. But unlike times before, she came running right to me. We repaired the fence and she stayed for  a little while so that I could bathe in peace. I guess this would equate to those times as a parent when you have a friend that says "sit down, go take your bath, go rest--I have her". I have a new-found respect for you ladies. And I'm sorry to my best friends that I didn't or don't do this more often. Please tell me when you need me. And please don't take my comparison of my foster-dog to a child as an insult. I think that any of you who know me realize that it is the highest form of a compliment I could give. : )

In conclusion, Stephanie decided this morning that she had not done enough damage to the couch yesterday, so she took care of that for me this morning. Thanks Steph! Once again, I am SO THANKFUL FOR A SLIP-COVERED SOFA! Luckily, this damage, too, can be covered up by the cushions and the little brown dog is safe! : )

So off I go to take Stephanie to my best friend's house to try and get her to swim in the pool and tire herself out. The fact that she has a 10 year old little girl that is a ball of energy and will tire Stephanie out from playing with her doesn't hurt either. Molly and I will be the ones on the float at the other end of the pool if you need us. : )

Hell on the Heart...

The last couple of weeks have been a whirlwind of emotions. I'll give the short version.
As many of you know, I lost my love, Petey, my 17 year old chow-lab on November 3rd. The despair that came from this loss is beyond anything that I could begin to explain. The connection that I had with Petey was indescribable. After coming out of a long "grief-coma", I decided that my dog Molly really needed a friend, as she was lonely and her going to work with me sometimes was just not getting it. So we started on our journey to rescue a larger, male dog who was submissive...because Molly HAS to be the boss as well as the princess. After a "meet and greet" with a lab/ pyrenees mix, it finally hit me that Molly was pretty content as an only dog, and that I was doing this more for myself out of guilt than for her. Molly needed some time as an only pet and to bask in the attention that I had formerly given so much of to Pete;  Because of his sickness, he required constant attention and care, and though Molly loved him dearly, I know that she wanted some time to herself.
After this meet and greet with the lab/pyrenees mix, I emailed the rescue and let them know to not spend time on processing my application and I explained the situation. They asked if I might be willing to temporarily house some of their rescues sometimes when people went out of town or they had a emergency situation. I thought that this would be a great idea. Molly could have a friend over for a couple of days and we could contribute to the welfare of these precious animals on another level.
2 weeks ago I got the email. "Stephanie" had been in a foster home and they needed to travel this summer and  wouldn't be able to take care of her. Could I take her for a little but until the rescue could arrange a place for her? Sure. I thought that this dog had been in a foster home with caring people and was well-adjusted and I would take her for a week or so and then she would move on to her next stage. WRONG.
Let me start out by saying that I am not "bashing" anyone or anything that tries to help animals. I realize that mistakes happen. It just had to be my luck that it happened to me this time and to a precious animal who has come to mean so much to me....But I am so thankful that Stephanie and I found each other. Even if for this brief moment in each of our lives.
Stephanie came to my house skinny, scared and not knowing what being loved felt like. I have never met a dog that shy and scared. She jumped when the air conditioner came on, a paper moved or you moved your foot. It was truly heart-breaking. The worst part was that she had been in a foster home for 6 months already and no one had been looking for her a home. She had truly gotten "lost in the system". When I started putting the pieces together,and realized what this little girl had been through, even in place that was supposed to be "safe" and loving,  I knew that there was no way I was letting this little girl leave my home without going to be with a family that would love her and care for her like she deserved. I was now heavily involved.
My friend Matthew took lots of photo and video of her and I wrote up a story of the dramatic transformation of this beautiful animal within 24 hours of being in a loving home. I can not explain the sweetness and love that oozed from this dog! A wonderful family called about her the very next day.
I cried the whole way to her "meet and greet" and I cried the whole night that she had her sleepover with the family. But I knew that this family was going to love her so much and they had a wonderful brother for her to play with. My prayers for Stephanie had been answered!
Well..Stephanie's new brother has to be "fixed" and go through a 7-14 day recovery period, so I have Stephanie with me for another couple of weeks. I wanted her with me and not shuffled to another place while he recovered. But having her here is HELL ON THE HEART. Every day I get to have her as a part of my life and love her as if she were my own, but I know that in 2 weeks, I will deliver this sweet animal who has become like my own, to her new family, and say goodbye. No more snuggling her at night, no more pawing me and kisses, no more car rides, no more walks...just goodbye and she is off to her new life.
The largest part of my heart and soul knows that she will be so happy in her new home with her new lab brother, mommy and daddy, and I am so thankful for that. The day I saw her with her new family, I knew. But then there is this other part of my heart and soul that just wants each day to pass so slowly so that 2 weeks will not come, and I will not have to let her go. But I will. And I will cry. And I will long for her. And I will pray for her. And I will wonder at night if she's sleeping well and if she's had plenty of treats, hugs and kisses that day. And I will wonder if she misses and thinks of me. Because, Lord Knows, I will miss her and  think of her constantly.