This is Moby, a 7-month-old pit bull that I just adopted from the Buster Foundation.

This pictures doesn’t really show his goofiness, but it does show how long his legs are.  This is one lanky teenage dog!  It’ll be fun to watch him grow.

He’s got an amazing temperament.  Nothing bothers him and he wants to be friends with everyone – dogs, cats, and humans (and other species, too, I’m sure, but we haven’t come across them yet).  He’s already fitting in perfectly with the rest of the pack. 

I’ll see how he does in training classes, but he could be a candidate for therapy dog work…in all my, um, spare time.

So, I found the dog that’s right for me.

Now I’m waiting to see if my application is approved.  I have every reason to think that it will be, but until the dotted line is signed (and the dog is on my doorstep), there’s always that twinge of worry that something will go wrong.  That I won’t be chosen.

How does this carry through the agent metaphor?  Perfectly.  I’ve gone from being the one in control – discriminating from among so many candidates – to making an offer.  Once the offer is out there, the control bounces back to the other side. The agent has gotten excited about the project, but now it’s up to the author to decide if it’s really going to happen.  Just like it’s up to the rescuer now if they’re going to accept my offer of adoption.  It’s up to them to decide whether I really am the right one out of all the potential people out there who might make an offer.

So, now I wait…

And hopefully I’ll have good news to post soon.