At least that’s what Mom says. If she’s right, I must be doing a good job!
Oh, sorry! You don’t know me, yet. I’m Phoebe. Sarah is my sister. She says I’ll be good at blogging like she is. I’m supposed to start by telling you my story.
I’ve been here about eight weeks. Here is really good. I was in a couple of places for just a little while on my way here and they helped me, too. I guess I needed a lot of help.
Dave says, “Inevitable, Mom!” He’s right, of course.
It was time. When Sarah returned from her last couple of trips to Camp, I realized that she missed all her doggie camper buddies. All the coming and going. Extra people to love her. And swim time!
I couldn’t quite figure out how we would manage a pool right now.
Then, I heard a story. A five-year old Newfie just arrived in foster care. Badly neglected. Itchy. Tiny. And very, very hungry.
Among the countless things in the world I can’t fix (You go ahead and fill in the blanks!) here was one I could.
