Our newest family member, Onyx, arrived home over the weekend and is acclimating to our family of six (plus two goofy boy kitties) in a suburban neighborhood after being fostered the last five weeks on a farm with four other newfies. Onyx is über friendly, welcoming anyone who crosses our threshold. He epitomizes the patient, calm and gentle character of his Newfoundland breed.
We took all of the kids along on the four-hour roundtrip to get him. The ride was smooth, but the first night was challenging, getting him into the house before dozens of Holden’s friends came over for a bonfire in the back yard. He is petrified of uncarpeted floors, so we got mats that won’t slip.
The kids’ expectations of him vary, but mostly they’re just happy he is finally home. Josi has been the toughest. She has expected Onyx to adjust immediately. I have repeatedly gone over the scenario he has been through—a family home, given up because he didn’t fit into the family schedule, a foster home for with a lovely couple (without children), and now us. Hard on a dog. He needs time.
Onyx’s rescue and adoption has resonated deeply with our kids and us. The kids do understand the difference between rescue and adoption. They don’t care that he isn’t a puppy and, quite frankly, I’m glad he isn’t. He sure is one sweet big dog.
If you ever find yourself considering a dog, consider a rescue dog. There are many nonprofit organizations and committed volunteers who work together to ensure that different breeds of dogs do not end up in pounds, that the dogs can be part of loving and permanent families.