Saying goodbye to Boris

In January of this year, I became a Member-at-Large of the San Francisco Samoyed Rescue Board of Directors.  While I have volunteered throughout my life for various animal welfare groups, this is my first foray into serving on a governing body.  San Francisco Samoyed Rescue was founded to help Samoyed dogs who, through no fault of her own and for a variety of reasons, find themselves homeless.  SFSR also helps owners who cannot afford veterinary care for their sick or injured Samoyed.  As dogs come into rescue, they are fostered by volunteer families until they can be placed in a permanent home.  Recently, we had a dog come into rescue who my husband and I volunteered to foster.  His name is Boris.

Every dog that comes into rescue has a story.  Most are sad, some are tragic.  Sometimes the dogs are unwanted.  Sometimes they are sick or injured.  Sometimes they are the victims of benign neglect.  One cannot help feel a variety of emotions during the rescue process including sadness, anger, hope and even rage.  Every dog that we rescue touches my heart in some way.  Mostly, I feel good about being able to place them in loving homes with people who can not only take care of them, but who understand the needs of this very special breed.  Sometimes you wish you could do more.  But as Edward Everett Hale said, "I am only one, but I am one.  I cannot do everything, but I can do something.  And I will not let what I cannot do interfere with what I can do".  So, once a dog goes to his permanent home, no matter what his circumstances when he arrived, there is a collective "Woo Hoo" and we move on.  That was before Boris came to live with us.

Boris' owner was the victim of a reversal of fortune, an all too familiar scenario these days.  His owner had to move to his mother's ranch after losing his own home and Boris was banished to live in the barn after being a house dog for all of his four years.  His owner reached out to us and surrendered Boris, although it was extremely difficult for him.  When Boris was picked up, his owner was teary-eyed and looked as though he had been punched in the gut.  I suspect that Boris represented the last vestige of his former life and having to give Boris up was the final signal that the life he once enjoyed was now, officially, over.  I expected Boris to be lacking in house manners.  I expected that he would have forgotten any obedience or house-training he might have once known.  I expected the normal stressed, confused and distrusting dog that we often encounter in rescue.  I never expected the gentle soul that crossed my threshold.

Boris is a love bug.  He is gentle and sweet boy.  He looks up at you with eyes that are full of trust.  He is desperate to please.  He has impeccable house manners.  He doesn't jump on furniture uninvited.  He doesn't jump up on people.  He does not table surf.  AND he is completely housebroken!  He took to our female Samoyed and our two kitties right away.  Taking his lead from Sarah, our Sammy girl, he got the drill down pretty quickly.  Before we knew it, this blithe spirit had touched our hearts in ways we could not imagine.

Boris follows us from room to room.   He WANTS to be around us every second, lying at our feet softly snoring away.  Yet, he will go outside and stay if told to, finding nondestructive ways to occupy himself.   He hears the leashes being removed from their hooks and off to the front door he goes where he patiently sits, waiting for us to "hook him up" and walk out the door.  He adores riding in the car, and while he prefers to ride shotgun, he willing jumps into the back of the SUV.  He is extremely quiet with the exception of his soft "woo woos" when he tells us how happy he is - and he is happy nearly all the time.  He is just about the perfect dog.

So, hubby and I started talking about adopting him.  He fit so well into our "pack" and was just an easy dog to have around.  We talked about our upcoming trip to Santa Barbara for our daughter's graduation from UC and that we would have to make arrangements to board him with the same lady with whom Sarah was going to stay.  It just seemed, well. . .a given.  But then kismet intervened.

Boris accompanied me to a Samoyed specialty show where our rescue had a booth.  Samoyed are always their own best ambassadors and we like to have potential "adoptees" with us at our booths.  I told the two other board members who were helping to man the booth that Darryl and I were thinking about adopting Boris and they both encouraged me to do so.  But in the late morning a couple came by our booth and asked if they might "meet" Boris.  I took him out of the exercise pen and I could see at once that they were quite taken with him.  But gosh...who wouldn't be.  I spoke at length to this nice couple and learned that they had previously owned Samoyed.  They had also recently lost their 15 year old Collie boy and were still grieving his demise.  I then learned that the lady had worked with her dogs in therapy, visiting local hospitals.  Suddenly, I realized that this was exactly what Boris needed.  He needed a job that would take advantage of his sunny disposition, his gentle nature and his love of human contact.  The couple asked if they might fill out a pre-adoption application.  I told them it would be a great idea, and I made an appointment to do a home check.  This was wonderful, amazing, perfect. . .and my heart was breaking.

The home check could not have gone better.  The couple had the financial means to provide the best of everything to Boris.  The home was clean and spacious and the grounds, of nearly a half acre were beautifully landscaped.  Lots of trees for shade and a huge lawn to run and roll in.  They would, without doubt, provide a excellent environment for Boris.   More important, they obviously were smitten by him and he seemed to like them as well.  We made arrangements for Boris to return in a few days where he would take up residence in his "forever" home.

Today was the day Boris went to live with his new family.  Hubby and I took Boris to his new home.  We spent some time watching him check out his new digs, and play with his new "sister", Dee Dee, a blind 8 year old Collie.  We completed all of the "business" of the adoption and then I picked up my keys to leave.  Boris, who loves to ride in the car, ran to the door after me.  He sat, looking up at me with his big round eyes in expectation.  I bent down and hugged him and told him that he could not go.  Of course, he did not understand.  And it broke my heart.  I got out the door as quickly as I could because I could feel my eyes stinging from the tears that were about to erupt.


Hubby and I didn't talk much on the ride home; each of us lost in our own thoughts about this special boy that had lately inhabited our home and our hearts.  My intellect understands that this is absolutely the perfect situation for Boris and that his new "parents" will love and care for him in the manner he deserves.  I just wish someone could explain all this to my heart.  I feel like crap right now.  


Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.  ~Kahlil Gibran