Warning: This Is A Sappy, Sad Post

I wasn't ready to talk about this on the blog {if at all}, but I got a concerned call from Weiser's previous foster mom and it touched me. It was with a heavy heart that I messaged her with the news that he's finally gone, hoping that would be the end of it. I mean, I felt obliged to inform her and thank her for sharing in his life, but I really didn't want to rip the wound open all over again. However, thirty seconds after I hit 'send', she called me and turned it all around. She actually thanked Will and I for giving him a chance when no one else would and reminded me that he had been shuffled through shelters and foster homes for months before we came along. First off, I can't imagine how anyone could say no to this sweet face:

But the most touching thing she reminded me of was that Weiser came into our lives at just the right time. As if he were sent to us, he appeared in our lives just in time to be with me while I endured Will's first deployment. He kept me safe, kept me busy, and gave Will the peace of mind that I wasn't alone. "It's those amber eyes," she said, "those are the special souls that are here to take care of us. Even if that makes me sound batty, it's what I believe."

I'd like to believe it too. I'd like to believe that he was here for a purpose, he fulfilled it, and now he's off to help someone else. In my mind he's the Timothy Green of dogs, and he filled a hole we had in our life that we didn't even know we had. I can only hope that we repaid him with enough love, and at least we can say we spoiled him rotten.

As cheesy as it sounds...we don't save rescue dogs, they save us.

Okay, now that I've cried for the umpteenth time and you probably all think I'm loony, it's time to get to bed. I'm ready to wake up and start a fresh new week, because last week was a doozy.