Today I had the misfortune of running into my previous neighbor at the grocery and then ignored all the warnings in my head not to ask about Luna.
How's Luna?
Oh, we had to get rid of her. She was biting Jackson (reminder: he's the 2-1/2-year-old monster who used to run unfettered around the neighborhood).
Did you find a home for her?
No, we took her to the shelter. At least she'll have a chance for a good home.
Mouth moving but nothing coming out.
So, Luna was taken to the overcrowded shelter, where the chances of her being adopted are slim and none. I'm busy telling myself all the reasons it just isn't possible for me to have a dog right now even if she were still there. She's been there at least two weeks though, and I don't think they keep them that long. Maybe I could foster her until a home could be found for her. Fat chance of finding a home for her though. It's hopeless. It almost always is.
She would have been 1 in April.
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