the story of Stitch, an adorable puppy that Theresa and I agreed to take care of while he recovered from injuries sustained in a UFC Animal Kingdom Edition bout with an angry coyote. The coyote won the match by majority decision, even though he cheated by using an ACME bear trap. We knew from the get-go we probably wouldn't be able to keep Stitch permanently, as adorable and friendly as he is. We've got two high-maintenance mutts at our house already, and we just don't have the patience to train a new one.
That was our thinking, anyway.
After fostering Stitch for a couple weeks, though, and watching him heal up from his leg injuries (damn coyote), the decision became tougher. Our brains knew that we'd have to give him up, but our hearts kept saying, "Aw, wookit da widdle puppy!" He romped around the living room playing with his stuffed hedgehog, he pestered the hell out of our rat terrier Newton (and if you've kept up on my never-ending frustration with that particular disgrace to canine society, you'll know how much I enjoyed seeing Stitch chase him around the house), and generally assimilated himself into our family. Sure, he piddled on the carpet from time to time (thank heaven for SpotBot -- if you're a pet owner or have small kids, invest now), and dropped the occasional doggy-deuce on the kitchen floor, but he's a puppy. They do that. And hell, Newton pisses on things whenever he wants, and he's the dog-age equivalent of Betty White.
After much deliberating, we decided that it would be best to let the city put Stitch up for adoption. Theresa took him back yesterday with the strict instructions, "If he doesn't get adopted and they're thinking about giving him the needle, call us. We'll take him at that point." So don't fret about the possibility of Stitch having to visit the Youth in Asia. Not gonna happen.
Because today he was adopted by a loving family. We don't know who they are, but I'm going to assume they have a nice home, a couple kids, and a large back yard with a lush lawn and lots of trees to whiz on. Naturally they're going to spoil Stitch with all kinds of dog toys -- a rubber bone, tennis balls, maybe a fuzzy stuffed duck -- and feed him nothing but Iams dog food and table scraps. They're going to make him the happiest little pup on the planet.
They'd better. Or else I'm gonna hunt them down and kill them.
That's my Stitch we're talking about.