She knocked on the door so quietly that I questioned whether or not anyone was there at all. It's a good thing that I was close to the door, though, because she was there. It was time for our home inspection. I recognized Saira through the peephole, took a deep breath, fixed my hair, and opened the door.
I had been waiting all week for this moment. Really, I felt as if I had been waiting my whole life for this moment. Rex and I were having a home inspection to see whether or not we would be good foster parents. This "Saira" got to judge us and our home and decide whether or not she would trust us with tiny lives.
Before you start getting crazy ideas, let me specify that we don't want to foster children. I mean, duh - we live in a one bedroom apartment and barely have enough room/time/money for ourselves. We want to foster rescue pugs. Okay, fine, I admit it - I want to foster a rescue pug. Rex just loves me enough to support the crazy shenanigans I get us into.
Last Saturday we talked to Saira to set up our home visit, and the visit was scheduled for Thursday at 5:00. I spent all week panicking about it. I mean, I LOVE pugs. This could be so huge for me! It's the perfect compromise for Rex and I, because I still get to help out pugs but Rex doesn't have to own one. It's great. It might be the closest that I ever come to my dream of being a pug owner. I'd already submitted our application and met the board of the Southern Nevada Pug Rescue, so it all hinged on this home inspection. I wanted it to be perfect.
I spent all week preparing. I dragged Rex around town to get new balcony furniture and potted plants to make our balcony look like a beautiful, dog-friendly retreat. I cleaned the apartment and purposely put Elvis's dog toys away but left just a couple out casually on the floor as if to say, "We're clean here, but we're not neat freaks. We believe in letting dogs be dogs." I brought home my pug page-a-day calendar from my desk at school and set it up inconspicuously on our DVD player. I gave Elvis and Elsie extra play sessions in the hope that they would become friends before the Thursday visit (they didn't). I fell in love with Rex all over again when he said, "I put two issues of Dog Fancy on top of the toilet for when she inspects the bathroom. That way, if she picks up one to see if we just got it as a decoy, she'll see that we have two so we're REAL dog people." If only we would have put the March issue on top (there was a pug on the cover of that one). Perhaps that would have been a bit of overkill, though, and we wanted to seem nonchalant. I even put thought into my outfit: jeans to seem casual, but a fancy top with jewelry so that I show that I'm not a total grunge-slob. I felt like my life dream was resting on impressing this Saira with my love of pugs. Even though I know he couldn't understand me, I had a long talk with Elvis about how he HAD to be good for this lady and prove that we were good dog-owners. Also, he couldn't act psycho or she wouldn't want any of their little babies to stay with us.
Anyway, back to the part when Saira knocked on the door. She knocked at exactly 5:01, while I was frantically checking my e-mail to see whether she had cancelled our appointment. After all, it was past 5:00 and she hadn't arrived. My heart was beating so fast - THIS WAS IT. I opened the door and smiled brightly. "Hi!" I chirped. Then I freaked out - was I supposed to shake her hand? Should I re-introduce myself? I mean, I'd already met her once, but still... I hadn't practiced the greeting! Aaaaaaaah! I settled on some variation of "Great to see you again, come on in!" As she walked in, I peered cautiously around for her clipboard and checklist or maybe even a tape recorder for her to take verbal notes in to be reviewed by the board after our meeting. She was only holding her purse. Hmmm...maybe the recorder was IN the purse, recording everything I said. Maybe there was a camera in the button on her shirt! Oh, except she was wearing a T-shirt with pugs on it. There were no buttons to hide a camera. She seemed deceptively casual. I would have to tread carefully.
Saira and I made our way over to the couch, where Elvis performed perfectly. It was as if he'd understood everything he and I had talked about earlier. He jumped up on the couch and licked Saira's face to say, "Hi! I like you!" He played around sniffing her for a few minutes, then when I said "Elvis, time to calm down," he obediently retrieved his bone from his "toy corner" and laid down on the floor to chew on it contentedly. I beamed with pride - what a good dog! See, Saira? I'm a good dog owner!! So what if he's putting on an act because I promised him a lifetime of treats if he made this visit go well? He's being good! Whoooo hooooo!
Saira and I sat on the couch and talked about the pug rescue and the responsibilities of fosters for about a half an hour. We had a lot of fun discussing the pugs that are currently in foster homes (I have all of their profiles memorized from the website), and we discussed the idiocy of people who don't like pugs. "Don't worry," she comforted me. "My boyfriend used to think that he didn't like pugs either, but now we have three. Your husband will come around." We can only hope.
After about a half an hour, Saira picked up her purse and said, "Well, that's about it! Thanks for having me over!" I wanted to scream, "Wait! You didn't take any notes! You didn't notice the Dog Fancy magazines on top of the toilet. You didn't look anywhere except the living room! I haven't even shown you our 'doggie retreat' balcony garden!" I quickly backtracked, though, when I realized that not showing Saira the rest of the apartment meant that she didn't have to meet Elsie. Elsie is a complete psychopath cat who should not be trusted near any dogs or humans, and that is why we keep her in the bedroom. She probably would have smelled pug on Saira and decided to kill her. I figured that the less Saira knew about the Elsie, the higher my chances were of becoming a pug foster. And that, my friends, is a very good thing.
When Rex got home from school, he asked how things went with Saira. I said that I thought they went well. He got a nervous look on his face and asked, "What did she say about Elsie?" I told him that she didn't even meet Elsie, and he broke into a huge grin, high-fived me, and said, "Sweet! Than we've got a chance!" HA HA!
So maybe I over-prepared for that meeting a bit...but it's better to be over-prepared, right? I am very happy to announce that within two hours of the end of our meeting, I got an e-mail telling me that our application to foster a pug had been APPROVED! HOORAY! Now I just have to wait for a little homeless pug to need a home to take care of him while he waits on getting adopted. I feel like a horrible person for hoping that it happens soon, but I can't help it. I'm going to (maybe, if they need one) be a pug foster mom! :-D
Um you are a genius! Great idea :)
ReplyDelete