|Oliver going in the crate|
Buster settled in the crate,
It's a good idea when people begin to work in a shelter to set a personal limit. Something like I'm not going to adopt an animal until I've been there for six months, or I'll only adopt a Dalmatian, because I've always wanted to live with a Dalmatian (not). I remember falling in love with a black and white cat at my very first shelter job in Tallahassee Florida in 1982. My heart wanted to adopt him but my head knew better -- my apartment was only so big, my budget even smaller, and the amount of time I had to spend with my animal companions was very limited, There were already three cats vying for my lap. But then, a few weeks later, SamMelvin (who at the time was just an orange tabby identified by a five digit number) was put in a cage. I fell hard. SamMelvin and I were meant to be together. So, with very little thought, I adopted cat number four, SamMelvin was a truly awesome cat!
When our new Adoptions Assistant started at the League, she was in no position to adopt a second dog. Her beloved Oliver was undergoing chemotherapy and was definitely entitled to extra pampering. But then she fell hard. Flint stole her heart. He'd at been at the shelter for a long time. Potential adopters were drawn to him, but when they learned he would need expensive surgery to correct a luxating patella (a knee cap that slides in and out of place), they would pass him by. She could not just walk by. So, she and her boyfriend decided that if Oliver liked Flint, then Flint would have his forever home. Without hesitation, Oliver said yes. Flint got a new home, a new name (he's now Buster) and two people who love him unconditionally. And, best of all, he got a BFF who insists that the two of them share one crate.