Last summer in July, the same month Anne died, there were two litters of pit bull puppies at the Seattle Animal Shelter. A total of fifteen puppies that spent the first ten weeks of their lives in the shelter. Puppies that were initially being held for animal cruelty cases. The shelter worked hard to get these dogs into foster care once they were legally cleared so that they could get as much socialization as possible to make up for a less than ideal start.
Some how I talked Miguel into bringing one of them home. She was tagged as Number 9 when I checked her out and as we drove her back to our South Park neighborhood, we agreed we should name her after a place.
And what better place to name her after than our local watering hole, Loretta’s. I snapped this photo of our foster puppy as we walked through their front door. Even though it’s No Dogs Allowed, we knew Amy would let us grab a drink and a burger out back by the Airstream and ping pong table.
And if you look into the background of this photo, you’ll notice I captured another element of South Park. A local prostitute who frequents the sidewalk in front of Loretta’s.
I’d led a few Foster Orientation sessions at the Shelter but I was still rusty–Chaney was our last foster so it’d been about 4 years. I rolled up the rugs, had the crate ready, kong balls stuffed, and our resident dogs were safely put away. But I forgot the Nature’s Miracle.
We took introductions slowly with our two dogs. After a few days of crate-and-rotate, we donned them the Three Amigos. Here’s Loretta with Buffalo and Chaney.
It was back-to-the-basics goodness for me.
A reminder that the heart of rescue is sharing your home with an animal in need. A warm bed, a gentle hand, an easy time. It’s where many of us begin, where some of us get lost, and where so many animals need us to be.
Lorretta is now a year old and has turned into a beautiful pit bull with a fantastic, responsible owner. Here she is on the sidelines at a soccer game cheering on her favorite human.