We've had Foss for only a few weeks, but already she's found a place in our home (on the sofa . . .) and in our hearts. She walks the trails, leaps into the car to run errands with no prompting, curls up in my office while I work, and shares space with Tam, our elderly main dog, without friction. We sometimes worry that she's too serious and wonder what, in her past life, made her forget how to lighten up and act puppy (perhaps she's older than we guess?) But then she'll take a giant, four-footed wiggling leap -- her happy sign -- and we know she's a pup at heart.
It's fascinating to re-home a mystery pooch with neither name nor birthdate. To Tonya, she was "Hope" for a few weeks. Before that, she may have been Bug. Now she's Foss, a word from my part of England (Cumbria) that means waterfall, for her extravagant flowing tail. She's incredibly beautiful.
Foss is beginning to know her (third?) name and her new people. But she runs up to women with blue jackets. She's curious about some small boys. And she sometimes flinches at a swift hand movement. We speculate about her past . . . but in the end, it doesn't matter. She belongs with us.
Tonya, you knew we wanted a mellow dog and you found us the best! Thank you!"