My right-hand-(wo)man's name is Sera. The shelter named her Serafina and she knew it, but I shortened it because I just couldn't see Serafina rolling off my tongue urgently while she threatens the delivery man :)

Aw, how sweet that you have done all that fostering. I would have had such a hard time sending Willy back. He was adorable. Or the girls. So sweet. We fostered a litter of kittens soon after my dog passed away, and it was pretty rough. They were very young, had been left in a box at the doorstep of the shelter overnight so they were stressed, and they had something viral. All the vet could do was give them sub-q and antibiotics. It did little for the weakest ones. We watched two die, one of which was a tom-cat that really reminded me of my dog. It was bad. However, the plan was to foster puppies once I got my new girls settled in. (I have not decided to brave kittens again, at least not yet.) Then the puppy I adopted got parvo, and now I'm not so sure it is a good idea to bring any puppies in this house for a while to come. She was very heavy-pawed with spreading those parvo particles all over the yard and my living room, etc.

Have no fear. I'm pretty sure dogs are the Achilles heel of all tough-guys and it is a little known secret. My neighbor is this bad-ass that takes care of business around here when duty calls, and he teared up when I told him my dog passed away. Lol. If you ever find yourself surrounded by thugs in a dark alleyway, just whip out your phone and shout "Look at this picture of my dog!" and everything will be fine ;)