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.
Hi! It’s me, Sarah!!!
Mom’s doing that thing she calls writing again. It must be fun because she sure does a lot of it.
Sometimes I kind of wish she’d do a little less. She doesn’t really want to play football with me when she’s writing and she says, “Wait, please,” a lot. I know those words!
Right now she’s writing about soup. She says that’s why the house smells so good. I like soup. Sometimes she makes me some of my very own. It has things I’m not allergic to in it. (Whatever that means!) And it’s supposed to help my back and hips feel better. Mom said she’d even put the recipe for my soup in her book. Maybe I’ll be famous!
