|Boca has never once doubted that she was home.|
One year ago today, I was anxiously checking my email for updates on Boca's flight from The Bahamas, made up of several legs with a layover in Florida. Her name was then Lydia, she had lived at The Humane Society of Grand Bahamas for about a year after being rescued from the streets, and she was supposed to be a foster dog. I didn't know what to expect...Ruby had made a few dog friends but was highly reactive to dogs in general and I was nervous about the initial meeting. I didn't know what Lydia would be unsure or afraid of, how she would do with my ancient little cat or what she would think of my hyperactive terrier.
I needn't have worried. The hardest thing about fostering Lydia was accepting my "failure" as a foster home - and that wasn't even hard. Pamela at Something Wagging This Way Comes reminds me that the goal of fostering is to find the dog its forever home, and in that case we succeeded wildly. Even though I didn't officially adopt her until May 18th, as far as Boca was concerned she went home from the airport on that evening at the end of last April. One year later and I can't imagine life without my goofy, gentle potcake. One day before her first Gotcha Day I wanted to reflect on some of my favorite things about Boca Face:
I love her snuggliness. She is the absolute best at squeezing herself in to the smallest space to be close to me, whether that's behind my knees or curled up next to my head on the pillow. She isn't pushy or wiggly, she just settles in with an uncannily soothing presence - my aunt says she is like a cup of chamomile tea. I decided to adopt her at a difficult time in my life, and I will never forget what a comfort Boca was, her affection and assurance a touchstone during uncertain days and nights.
I love her patience with Ruby. My nutty Border Jack can be relentlessly energetic, and Boca allows Ruby to tease her, jump on her, lounge on her and chew on her with limited scolding. They play so nicely together, which was one of my biggest concerns with having two again since my previous two always had a tense relationship. I adore watching the two of them interact and finding them in the cutest napping arrangements together, sharing the dog bed in the sun. Their perfectly coordinating colors and markings are just a small part of what makes them The Ginger Sisters.
Most of all, I love her Bocaness. Her ability to sleep in the weirdest positions, her funny underbite, her frog-legged sprawl, her sweet Eskimo kisses, they way she bumps the back of my legs when she wants to go for walk, how cooperative she has been with me and various vets through ear problems and eye problems, her lovely unhurried strolling pace on walks and how she wags her tail constantly outside, our shared belief that weekends are for sleeping in, putting up with wearing bubble wrap and other silly blogger stunts, what she has taught me about potcakes and other street dogs, her crazy "hubba hubba" growl-bark she makes to get Ruby to play, they way she opens her kennel door on her own, her folded in-between ears that are so expressive, how she gets so excited at meal time, the way she inspires people to smile everywhere she goes, and the ease and determination with which she made herself undeniably at home with us from the start.