"Y'know, I think you should blog about this," Liz mentioned to me earlier today. "It would be interesting to highlight a different kind of foster."
When she called me a few weeks ago, Liz mentioned that a fellow member needed some help due to a medical issue. I think I said yes before the sentences were fully formed in her brain. With a sister on the other side of the continent facing her own serious health challenges, I am too well aware of how difficult it can be for a person who lives alone to care for a beloved animal when things go wrong.
Clyde, the big black boy on the couch (shh, don't tell his person!) has been with us for a few weeks. We're all smitten; perhaps you can tell by the picture that some of us who shall remain nameless are particularly taken with him. He's settled in to our routine, sleeping when we sleep, playing when we play, and helping me pick up random stuffed animals off the floor. Of course, that final point has occasionally made him less than popular with the youngest 2-leggers in our family, but Clyde more than makes up for it at night when he trots up the stairs alongside Talullah to say goodnight to our children.