.....Or so Toot exclaimed once she got a load of our new houseguest. Baby can best be described as an explosion of personality! She is an in-your-face, standard Eskie girl, who towers over the Angels From God with a boldness that they had not seen since Sophie. In fact, after a week with Baby, I heard Toot refer to the "Good Old Sophie Days."

Baby was rescued, and then surrendered by her rescuers -- an older couple whom Baby wore ragged. These kind-hearted folks surrendered her to our New Jersey Rescue Diva, Diane Gonzalez, who brought Baby home to the amuse her toddler, James, and to annoy her husband, Willie. Willie has the dubious honor of being the latest spouse to be drafted into the Heart Bandits trenches. His grip on sanity is slipping.

Immediately, Diane discovered that the Gonzalez house was clearly not big enough for Baby, who offended both Inky, a recent foster, and the Gonzalez Goddess Eskie, Lady, who is the undisputed alpha bitch in the Gonzalez household.....if you don't count Diane.

And so, after a week of intermittent bitch brawling, Diane suggested that Baby visit the Angels From God in Quincy, Massachusetts. I cannot tell you how this prospect thrilled me. But, I was in no position to decline after all the tireless fostering that Diane has been doing lately. So, we made our way to New Jersey to meet Baby....whose reputation preceded her.

The initial meeting went surprisingly well -- Baby hopped into the back seat of the Passat and behaved herself. After a tearful goodbye, we hit the road, and about two hours later, I reported to Diane via cellphone that Baby was ABSOLUTELY NO TROUBLE at all. This is the phrase that we, in Eskies Online Rescue, use to predict that all hell is about to break loose.

I was feeling very confident, and on my second driving wind, when I decided to visit a potential adoptor that I had been talking to about Baby. We agreed to meet for an interview, so I detoured to New Hampshire. By the time I reached Portsmouth, I was bleary-eyed and irritable. Sometimes the challenge of driving the car and reading the directions gets the best of me.

And, so, we met the adoptors, a nice Mom and Pop family with a toddler and a rescue Keeshond. I must say, that NEVER, in the history of rescue, have I seen an Eskie work harder at making a bad impression. (Well....there was that one time that Audra Eckes drove Teddy Bear from New York to Florida, only to have him bite the adoptors....but we think that was his ploy to have Audra adopt him. He is now Teddy Bear Eckes).

Without waiting for a proper introduction, Baby lunged out of the car....on a 12 inch leash which she managed to snack on during the car trip. She jumped at the adoptors, displayng a sort of overzealous friendliness, but then flipped at the sight of their Keeshond. There was snarling, growling, air-biting, and a general free-for-all occurred that even an experienced rescue maven like me could not control. I believe that in the mayhem, their toddler gave me a few swats on the behind. The adoptor-husband declared, in his most polite manner, "No Way, Jose."

And so, I wrestled Baby back into the car where she promptly declared war on the Angels From God. The innaugural dog fight in the new car. And I was delighted to display this spectacle of the breed in front of potential adoptors. Fortunately, they are seasoned Eskie owners though clearly not risk-takers.

By the time we got home, I was gearing up for Armageddon. It didn't happen. Instead, the Angels From God were rather hospitable. Diane had thoughtfully packed Baby's purple towel, which seemed to have a calming effect, as she dragged it into every corner of the apartment. Baby used the purple towel to mark her territory, and she successfully negotiated her spot on the bed, alongside Nikita and Toot. Nadia went to her usual spot in the closet. Apparently, the quartet had worn themselves out during the vehicular argument.

We spent a few unremarkable days....during which I was heard to tell Ann Harris that "this was the easiest foster situation ever!!!" Again, with the overconfidence. I was knee-deep in dirt (the gardening phase had taken over....as one more step toward me becoming my mother), as I began the spring planting of my terrace. I must say that I wholeheartedly resent the gut wrenching laughter exhibited by my so-called friends who reached me on my cell phone at the Home Depot during gardening week. The guffawing was apparently contageous, as the Angels From God rolled their eyes up into their heads when they caught me bringing dirt INTO the apartment. Well...a girl can damn well garden if she wants to.

Nikki and Toot plan Baby-strategy atop their condo-crate.

And so, I overdid it a bit, buying a lilac bush, a rhodadendron, several pansy plants and assorted ceramic pots in one outing...and it was a struggle to lug the merchandise up three flights of stairs. When I opened the front door and entered -- back-end first -- dragging the lilac bush .... I was knocked asunder by Baby, who toppled the bush in an escape attempt. Through a key benefit of apartment living, the escape was thwarted by the downstairs locked door. So, I fullfilled that day's aerobic requirement by chasing Baby up and down the stairs.

Once back in the apartment, I put Baby in the laundry room while I went to fetch the rhodadedron. As I dragged the heavy plant into the apartment, AGAIN, I was knocked to my knees by Baby, who let herself out of the laundry room, and jumped the rhodadedron to flee the premises. This time, she was lucky enough to catch my downstairs neighbor, and his two cantankerous senior mutts, with the door open. Baby made a break for it -- flew over the dogs, past my neighbor, and out into the parking lot. Carpe Diem.

I slammed the door on the Angels From God who were hysterical, and chased Baby until I had approached cardiac arrest. I dragged myself into the car to catch my breath, opened the passenger door and recited my "Our Father Who Art in Heaven....." Baby jumped in, and knocked the remaining wind out of me as she kissed me on the nose. I still have a pawprint bruise on my hip.

It takes uncanny rescue knowhow to lose a foster dog out the front door of your home...but to do it TWICE within an hour -- out TWO doors, is unprecedented. BABY, thanks for the memories.