Late last March a longtime acquaintance reached out via text, saying, "Hi Jessica, do you have any dogs I can foster? Now I'm working from home, and I'd love a dog." I had attempted at least a 1/2 dozen times to get this friend to foster over the years; she had always politely refused. And suddenly here she was wanting, yearning for canine companionship in her condo of solitude. On several occasions I had urged (pseudonym) Lourdes to foster because she: loves dogs, lives alone, is responsible, friendly and lives in a dog-friendly condo. Again, she had always said no. So I was flabbergasted, and eager, to help find her a foster dog when she reached out at the beginning of the pandemic lockdown. rescue puppies Within a week I had dog-options for her to foster, but by that time she had borrowed, or was pet sitting one of her supervisor's dogs. "Whatever," I thought, but was intrigued because this was one of a few signs I was getting that, suddenly, do