Before I get too far into this, I've got to tell the stories of Zeke, Girl, and Harley. While these guys may not have been true fosters, they have a place in this story nonetheless.
Zeke was the first. It was about two weeks before Thanksgiving break during my final fall semester at Florida State that I noticed a male black pit mix pup hanging out in my next door neighbor's fenced yard. He was a good looking pup and seemed to be quite young and playful. I let Bunkin out into my yard and the two were immediately interested in each other. They spent an hour or so sniffing through the chain link and racing each other up and down the fence line. They really seemed to get along well, so I let them continue to play through the fence like this for the next couple of days.
That Wednesday afternoon, I came home from class to find the little neighbor pup in my backyard. It looked as though he had jumped the fence and come over to wait for his playmate. Of course, I thought this was adorable but I knocked on the neighbor's door to let her know what had happened. She said she had noticed how the dogs had been playing through the fence and that she wouldn't mind if her dog spent some time in my yard playing with Bunkin. I asked if he had a name and she said he didn't and that the dog actually belonged to her boyfriend (a rather shady character who came around every now and then). This raised a few flags in my mind, but for the time being I was content to let the dogs play together freely.
By Friday evening, my neighbor's boyfriend's car was parked in her driveway. He was a very loud man who seemed to bring trouble with him. Sunday morning came and I noticed the poor pup had been chained to the front porch. He was lying on the concrete stoop looking pretty sad. I saw Vivienne (neighbor lady) later that day and asked her why he was chained. She told me that her boyfriend didn't want him running loose in the yard anymore because he had gotten into the turkey grease under the giant smoker in their backyard. She said I could still take him over to my yard and let him play with Bunkin, so I did. He reeked of smoked turkey and was basically a walking oil slick. Although I hated it, I made sure to put the pup back on the chain after he'd finished playing with Bunkin so that Vivienne wouldn't revoke his playtime privileges. Other than the turkey stench, he seemed to be in good health and I didn't want to push the envelope.
Patience proved to be a virtue. After Vivienne's boyfriend had left, she knocked on my door. In one hand was a bag of dog kibble and in the other was the pup on a leash. Vivienne told me that her boyfriend had left and that she didn't have time to care for the dog. I gladly took him in, although I realized there was most likely more to the story.
First things first: the dog got a bath and a name. Vivienne always got really dressed up for church every Sunday, so I decided to give the dog an over the top Bible name. Ezekiel was the first name that came to my mind and from there I shortened it to Zeke. Zeke was still covered in turkey grease, so I enlisted the help of a couple of friends and together we cleaned him as best as we could.
Even though Bunkin and I loved having Zeke around, it was time to figure out a plan. I knew I couldn't keep him and I knew I couldn't take him home to my parents' house over Thanksgiving break, so I began looking for a suitable home for him. I was surprised by how quickly Zeke's luck seemed to have changed for the better. I found a girl whose family lived on a horse farm and were looking for another dog. They were animal lovers through and through; the girl's sister was a veterinarian to boot. Zeke and I met her on campus and we took a walk around Doak Campbell Stadium. She was as great a match for Zeke as he was for her.
Zeke was picked up and taken to his forever home the next afternoon and not a minute too soon. Vivienne came by saying that she wanted to take him back. She told me that her boyfriend was upset that she had given him up for free and that he was worth more than that. She said he had plans for the dog and that he wasn't hers to give away. I explained to her that it was too late; I'd already found a home for Zeke and I couldn't get him back. After a bit of back and forth, Vivienne finally gave up and I never heard another thing about it. At the very least, I knew Zeke deserved more than life at the end of a chain, but I am now certain that he was spared from a far worse fate than I had initially imagined.
Three years later, he is spoiled rotten and loving life with his forever family:
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