Oh, Fritty

Fritz, wearing the New Year's party hat my daughter made

My foster dog is being adopted on Saturday. Fritz (Fritty Cent, Fritzenheimer, Fritz-a-Million) has been with us for almost one year. He will turn 10 on January 14th. My most fervent wish was to get him into his own home before his birthday, and it looks like the universe has made it so. A kind-hearted adopter, the kind we rescue volunteers dream of, was able to look past a grey muzzle, a shaky rear leg, and some random quirks and asked, "How soon can he be mine?" Thus, I will drive five hours round trip on Saturday to take Fritz to his forever home.

After ten years of rescue work, you'd think I could pull off this sort of thing without the involvement of tears. Alas, I think this is going to be a tough one. Fritz has been a member of our family for the past year. The hard part, when you are placing a dog in his new home, is that moment when you gather your things and prepare to leave. The dog, too, readies himself to leave. "This is your home now, buddy," I always tell the worried-looking pooch. I'll never know if the dogs understand that I am trying to do right by them, not abandoning them as others have surely done. Sure, Fritz was always welcome to stay with us for the rest of his days, but every dog deserves a home of his own.

I would like to dedicate this song to Fritz:


If you have a small child, you will probably recognize the song immediately. If you are fortunate (or unfortunate) enough to own the DVD, you could probably sing it in your sleep. It's sweet, it's simple.

There is no home like the one you've got, 'cause that home belongs to youuuuuuu.

We'll miss you, sweet boy.