The North Shore Animal League

Yesterday Dave tells me that we are actually only foster guardians for Jenny. Her picture up on a website. If she isn't claimed by October 15, then she is ours to keep. If real owners (don't care for either of those two words) contact the shelter, will have to give her back. Dave delivers news in offhanded and unworried way. Compensate for his unreasonably calm attitude by having blood rush to face, holding Jenny close to me, and saying in hysterical tone, What do you Mean? Have wrenching memories of the Beverly Clearly book Henry Huggins. Protagonist Henry (10 yrs old) finds a dog without a collar in front of grocery store. Calls dog Ribsy because of dog's underfed appearance. Henry's life much improved (as is Ribsy's who gets to eat wet dog food and raw eggs cracked on top of dry food--not own favorite but understand canine sense of delicacy very different from own). Book ends with appearance of boy who claims Ribsey his dog. Boys come up with plan to have Ribsy choose between the boys by walking an agreed upon number of paces away from each other and then having friend release Ribsy in middle. After very tense moment (drawn out with sitting down, the thumping of the tail on the sidewalk and the biting of Fleas), Ribsy ambles over to Henry. Can only hope that own story will turn out as happy. Jenny oblivious to questions about her future. In bed, both of us very restless. Jenny keeps up a vigorous nocturnal schedule of chewing and licking. I, on the other hand, have extended dream that takes place at, variously, hotel, somebody's country house, and at film festival. Meet many, many people. Do drugs that haven't touched in years as well as several that seem to have invented on the spot. Several times, manage to wake up out of dream. Listen to Jenny's grooming (not calming.) When manage to force self back to sleep, arrive at same party weekend. Throughout, Dave sleeps like proverbial rock. In morning, wake up absolutely drained and unprepared for week ahead.