All good thoughts. But we are Boxer/Doxie people, and there is no one in our area (seemingly for hundreds of miles north, west, and south), and the only reason I don't wheel the compass is because 30 mi SE is Boston proper. But NH, ME, CT, and if I'm correct even MA doesn't have those dogs covered by any non-umbrella organization.
Right now, we can't foster, and I don't want to anyway, because I fall in love easy. Way too easy. It may take me a long time. But I have a lot to learn, and a lot of contacts to make. Boxers are a "thing" with me since my girl carried my soul through the rehab transition from a working tradesman to 100% disabled. There's no way in Hell I'm taking two mile-long walks every day without the Boxer. Her good nature pulled me through winter days that would have otherwise ground my spirit to powder.
I have had two Borders, a Mix (who could hold his own in this lineup) and Java the Boxer. The last is the only one I ever felt I "owed" anything to. It's like I was given another daughter after my two-legged one grew up. But I deny her nothing healthy. Walks are shorter now. She's had one pulled hammy after another because as a big, strong girl (65#), and you can't bust a move at 60 the way you could at 30, trust. So the next time she pulls a hammy is the last time I can let her off the lead, even on the conservation land. Watching her limp around the house because she doesn't know why her burst off the line is all gone, except that now it makes a "hurty leg" after she tries for a good high-speed derp like the old days, three or four years ago...
This dog's passing is going to wreck my mind. If I am not deeply involved with a project involving Boxers (and you may be right, I might end up serving a lesser function, but I'm aimin' high, and I'm willin' to shoot), I may find myself in a very bad head space.
So, for now I'll do a couple/few hours at the local general shelter and go from there.