We are delighted to announce that our first Texas foster dog, Dora the Explorer, has been adopted! We are overwhelmed with excitement, joy, longing, and pride. But surprise? Hardly.

Didn’t we all expect Dora to go out in high Dora fashion, nose turned proudly to the wind, doing her sassy little tap dance across somebody’s heart, knocking us all down with her big personality and cutes? It’s only fitting that she would be Love-A-Bull‘s first adoption of the year. After all — does a gal like Dora ever share the spotlight or take second place? No way!

Dora’s new life could hardly be more perfect for her. Her mama is a longtime pit bull lover who has been missing having a dog in the house since she moved to Texas, leaving behind in North Carolina a long-distance boyfriend and three pit bull type dogs she lived with and dearly loved. Dora will be her one and only love. Because her new mama is an empty nester with two grown children, Dora will be pampered just like she deserves — sleeping on the bed, going on long trail walks, and basking in the sunshine in her big, new, fenced-in yard.

We always like to ask our dogs for their forever-family wish list. Some of the dogs have very long and specific wish lists, like Gonzo Bunny-Ears, who insisted that his new family have a jumbo-sized sister dog for him and be willing to keep his silly name, and Little Zee, who wanted a family with no other pets and a willingness to help her up and down stairs and on and off furniture because of her disability.

When we asked Dora for her adopter wish list, we learned that had just a couple of items:

• Dote on me!
• Make me the center of your world!
• Tell me I’m pretty every day!
• Let me sleep on the bed with you!
• Make me the girly-girl I am destined to be!

Her new mama Mary is more than happy to fulfill all of these requests and more. She’s even ordering her a special pink crate to match her raspberry pink hoodie and jacket. And to a gal like Dora, nothing says “true love” like a pink dog crate.

We’re going to miss Dora’s sweet little personality around our house, but we’re proud to know she’s off on her grand forever-adventure. Bon voyage, sweet girl!

You could say it’s a New Year’s tradition at our house, but this would be the first year we’ve adapted it. Still, we like it. Nice clean dogs for a nice clean new year.

Dora disagrees. She thinks that dirty, stinky doggies are much more appropriate for a new year. If you don’t bring last year’s treasures with you when you’re turning over a new leaf, how can you be sure you’ll know who you are?

And so went the bathtub tango. Us offering peanut butter, treats, praise, songs, and petting. Dora turning her upturned nose and her underbitten face away, as though to say “Thank you, but I reject your pathetic advances.” Once in the tub, she refused to even stand with all four paws on the tub floor, as though she was preserving her dignity through just her pristinely dry front-left paw.

"I'll be damned if I put this last dry paw down, lady."

After some additional coaxing (I think fosterdad offered her a $100 bill and a sip of his Lagunitas IPA), she succumbed to the new bath tradition and bore it like the good girl that she is, even the much-dreaded face-washing.

nice and clean and ready to scram . . .

I'm a good girl . . . but which way's the door?

I'm going for it . . .

Is there a fire escape, maybe?

After we wrapped our Dora-bull in a nice thick orange towel, we all enjoyed a good romp on the bed and the world was whole again.

But welcoming 2012 with nice, clean, vanilla-scented furs wasn’t the only reason that Dora needed a bath . . . stay tuned tomorrow to find out her other motive!