I dashed off to find the web site for the rescue and fill in the application form for the dog called Misha. I answered all their questions and gave them phone numbers of friends and our vet who would attest to my past good pet ownership. That afternoon I got a call from the foster Mom of the little dog. I sounded perfect for him. Could I come on Sunday to see him and see if we were a good match? Of course I would be there.
Misha was in the next state so I left early on Sunday to find my way to his foster home. I drove to an apartment building with tall pine trees shading the front door and a pretty garden on the side. I ran up the three flights of stairs to Apartment 3C. I knocked. "Is this where Misha is staying?" I asked. "Come on in" the foster Mom said. I stepped into the room and saw him.