05/29/2026
The Two That Got Away
People always ask how I can foster dogs and then let them go. The truth is, sometimes I don’t. Sometimes they take a piece of me with them. Today Rex went home, and as I stood there watching him leave with Arissa and Aaron, I realized I was looking at the second dog they’ve taken from me. And somehow, I couldn’t be happier about it.
The first was Maverick. Some of you may remember him. He was one of my very first fosters and my first heartworm-positive foster. He spent four months with me, and those months were brutal. There were days he hurt so badly he would cry out, and every time he cried, I cried. I worried over him. I celebrated every tiny victory. I sat through the heartbreak and the uncertainty and watched him fight his way back to health. By the time his treatment was over, I had made a terrible mistake. I had fallen completely in love with him. When applications started coming in, my heart started breaking. I knew I wanted him. I knew he was special. But I had waited too long to admit it, and now he was supposed to find his forever family.
Then I got a message from our Tennessee coordinator asking if I would speak with one of the applicants. I’ll be honest. I wasn’t exactly welcoming. My heart didn’t want Maverick to leave. But one conversation with Arissa changed everything. By the end of that phone call, I knew Maverick wasn’t just going to a good home. He was going to his home. I fell in love with Arissa and Aaron almost as quickly as I had fallen in love with Maverick. They were the kind of people every rescue dog deserves. The kind of people who don’t just adopt a dog. They build their lives around loving one.
That was the day I finally understood rescue. Not the paperwork. Not the transports. Not the fundraising. The sacrifice. The willingness to break your own heart so someone else’s family can become whole. It sounds dramatic until you live it. Until you watch a dog you love run into someone else’s arms and realize that’s exactly where he’s supposed to be. Maverick left, and instead of losing family, mine got bigger. Arissa and Aaron became part of it.
Fast forward to last week. I was talking to Nicky, the president of Viz Whizz Rescue, and said that maybe Rex should just stay. He was happy. He was safe. He was thriving. He fit here. Then two days later my phone dings. It was Arissa. “We’re ready.” Ready for another dog. Ready to love another rescue.Ready to change another life. We talked about Weimaraners, GSPs, GWPs, Vizslas, and every dog we could think of. Arissa told me she wanted something different from Maverick. She wanted a dog who was romantic. A dog who wanted to be wrapped up in affection. A dog who wanted to cuddle every second of every day. Maverick is many wonderful things, but subtle isn’t one of them. That boy wakes up every morning ready to hunt, run, explore, and see what trouble he can find. People are simply there to feed him, admire him, and occasionally throw something. She wanted a snuggler. And suddenly it hit me. Rex. The answer had been sitting right in front of me all along. I knew it immediately. The kind of knowing that settles deep in your soul and doesn’t leave room for argument. Rex belonged with them. And just like that, Arissa and Aaron stole another one of my dogs. And another piece of my heart.
Today, watching Rex melt into Arissa’s arms the way he used to melt into mine, I wasn’t crying because he was leaving. I was crying because I was going to miss him. There’s a difference. The photos tell the story better than I ever could. The way he looks at her. The way he presses into her. The way he already trusts her completely. Dogs don’t fake that. They know. And Rex knows. Rescue is love. Rescue is sacrifice. Rescue is looking at a dog you adore and choosing what is best for him instead of what is easiest for you. It is crying in your car afterward. It is staring at the empty spot where they used to sleep. It is missing them before they’re even gone. But it’s also knowing that somewhere down the road, a family is laughing because of a dog you helped save. And that’s worth every tear.
Rex, I love you more than words can say. I held my tears until I couldn’t see your car anymore because I didn’t want your last memory of me to be sadness. I wanted you to leave believing the world was every bit as wonderful as your heart always assumed it would be. Go make them laugh. Go keep them warm. Go cover them in cuddles. Go be everything I knew you could be. And know that no matter where life takes you, you’ll always be one of mine.
Congratulations, Arissa, Aaron, Maverick, and Rex.
Some families are built by blood. The very best ones are built by dogs. ❤️🐾
