At the time, I was grieving for my mum Izzy and our beloved pet pooch Max. Both had recently passed away. My dad Herbie, 80, lived with me and my husband Dave, 36, and I didn’t feel we were ready to take on another pup. So I hit share instead.
But a month later, I noticed that Fey was still in foster care. Despite now being a bit of a celebrity, trials with potential owners hadn’t worked out. My heart broke. The shelter believed poor Fey had endured abuse. She’d been found emaciated and suffering from a skin disease and multiple injuries. It meant she had specific needs and couldn’t be left alone for long.
Thinking of the hole left after losing Mum, I called a family meeting. ‘I think we’d be perfect for Fey,’ I told Dad and Dave. They agreed, so I arranged to meet Fey and her foster mummy, Gwen, 32.
‘I think we’d be perfect for Fey,’ I told Dad and Dave.
I was smitten and thankfully Fey liked me too. In February this year – 493 days after she’d been in care – Fey came to live with us.
We filled every room with cosy dog beds and toys. Dave and I even took time off work to bond with her. Then Dad and Fey spent their days cuddled up together.
‘She’s like my shadow,’ Dad chuckled as Fey wagged her tail. Now weighing 30 kilos Fey gets stronger every day.
Gwen and I keep people updated on her antics. We were broken when we lost Mum, but Fey has helped us. We adopted Fey to save her, but she’s rescued us too.
Originally published in that's life! Issue 30, 2016.