We drove a long way to get home.  I was dirty and my coat was in bad shape from so many fleas.  I had a bath in the bathtub and loved it.  I gave a few more kisses to show how much better I felt.     “You`re my foster dog,” she said again.  In the next couple weeks I was neutered, taken to the groomer, and taught to walk on a leash.  Nobody had to teach me how to shred paper or blitz with the other fluffs.  I learned about watching TV from the safety of a lap, and getting the best spot on the bed at night.     A month later, I lost the “foster” part of my title.   I now live at the Small Paws Quilt Shop, and  I know I`m home to stay for the rest of my life.  So now I get to be the big brother to other foster fluffs who come our way, waiting just like I did, for that second chance at life.