That is why when I got the call from the shelter about a family that had moved and dropped off a dog that they adopted from us two years prior, I did not make the connection. If he were not microchipped, I wouldn’t have thought it was Henry. You see, microchips don’t lie, and that Monday was not such a good day. I remembered that day he went off smiling to his new life. Though this dog—now known as Aslan—still had the hint of a smile, he looked like he’d been through a little more than he could bear.
After I picked him up, I took Aslan to an “interview” to see if he would get along with other dogs at Camp Bow Wow, where we occasionally board some of our dogs seeking foster homes. I crossed my fingers as I watched how he reacted to the pack of dogs that rushed up to him when he entered the dog play room. This must be something that parents feel as they watch their children walk into the school yard on the first day of kindergarten.
His tail was straight up and wagging nervously as the pack checked him out. I held my breath, but soon exhaled in relief when he went down on his front paws with his bottom in the air. The simple action is known amongst dogs as a “play bow,” which is a clear and friendly invitation to play. He passed, and I saw that same smile of his that let me know that everything would work out for him. His smile is contagious and so is his bright, can-do spirit. He is still looking for that family that will keep him for the rest of his life, but he has a certainty that is infectious. I’m convinced that this happy-go-lucky fellow will find that loving family soon, and will keep that positive outlook of his until it happens!