March 27, 2001
Welcome Maggie! The Foster Hound

Since I make no secret of the fact that gardening is merely my second greatest passion, I hereby dedicate this entry to my first: dogs. Specifically, to Maggie, my new foster hound.

Maggie

I saw Maggie in the Multnomah County Animal Shelter last week, shaking like a leaf, listless and forlorn. I'd been intending to start fostering dogs out of that facility, and Maggie seemed a good place to start. Nine yrs old, red droopy eyes, 60 lbs, hardly adorable-looking behind bars. I worried that they'd label her "unadoptable", a label that is literally the kiss of death.

Napping

Maggie turns out to be a fabulous creature. She loves kids, loves to play in the park, is calm as can be and completely house savvy. She doesn't know the first thing about walking on a lead, however, so my own learning curve is about to take off (beats having her take my arm off) as I figure out how to use one of those gentle halter things.

Maggie on the sofa

She loves her sofa (actually, it's Della's, whose been reasonably polite although by no means affable). And unlike Della -- by day a diminuitive pet, by night Sumo Beagle -- Maggie only barely snores. She smells good, too, no small attribute as any dog lover knows. SO... if you, or anyone you know, has room at home for this deliciously sweet old soul, drop me a line at plants@npr.org. Note the date: 3/27/01.