Today I found out that my dog has been successfully re-homed. (He was with a good family for a trial run and it looked like they were keeping him, but today it was confirmed that they are taking him and we just need to fill out some adoption paperwork).
On the one hand I am relieved that he now has a good home. And I’m glad I stuck around long enough to make sure that happened, as opposed to just offing myself and leaving a note behind with phone numbers of people who could assist in finding him a new home.
But my heart is broken. He slept in my bed with me every night, and it was us against the world. I miss him every day and I wonder if he misses me too. I wonder if he thinks I abandoned him. (I explained to him that I loved him and that I needed to find him a new home because I couldn’t care for him anymore…but I don’t know that he understood because…well, he’s a dog…)
I had a dream that the nice family who has him gave him to an oil rig worker who left him alone for weeks on end and he got super skinny. In the dream he could talk (it’s funny how, when you are dreaming, things like animals talking don’t raise any questions in your mind…). He looked up at me and said “Mommy please just take me home”.
But the problem is, I don’t have a home to take him to. My living situation is transient, and my finances are desperate. This of course just shows that I did the right thing in finding a stable, loving home for him. But it breaks my heart that I couldn’t give him the home that he deserved. The home that I had envisioned for the two of us when I first got him as a little puppy.
But grieving the loss of my adorable little guy is just part and parcel of grieving everything else. All the other failures. The thing is, I wanted to live. I did. I just couldn’t. I kept trying to fix things and the damage was irreparable.
I used to tell myself to just stay alive long enough to make proper arrangements for my dog. That is now done. (Well, I suppose I should wait the few days until the paperwork is done.)
I don’t have any children or other dependents. There are no other loose ends to tie up, so I can go now. It’s a liberating feeling. Now I can just focus on planning the most graceful exit possible. But I will do so with a heavy heart, because I really do wish things had turned out differently. (Don’t we all, I suppose…)
3 comments
Ouch. I can’t wrap my head around that process. Sorry.
I have two cats, and have thought endlessly about a similar scenario. I wonder what they would think, like you do. I don’t know if I could give them up. For me, it would also be the “final” thing to do.
Well, maybe the next-to-last. Without them, I’m just wasting the planets oxygen.
You did a difficult, difficult thing properly.
I’m sorry you’re hurting. That’s a tough thing you did. Hugs.
You will miss your dog I am sure.
The heavy hearted feeling is why we do it.
It’s always why we do it.