Archives for May 28, 2019

26 Days

 

When my boys were little and it was time to take off a bandaid, I told them to brace themselves and I took it off as quickly as possible. I was one of THOSE kind of mothers.

Well, today I am doing the same thing to myself.

There’s no use waiting for a better moment.

I took Finn back to the animal shelter.

Those of you who know me, know how many dogs have come in and out of my life. Both my own, and rescue dogs. So it’s not like I am a rookie at this game.

Finn and I could not come to a meeting of the minds. He’s a smart little boy, but not smart enough to know that he needed to meet me half way. Despite me dumping out the entire contents of my doggy bag of tricks, his aggression levels kept increasing.

I kept hoping we had turned a corner after having a pretty good day, and the next day it would be like starting from square one. Snapping, growling, and barking at your human is not acceptable.

The shelter told me very clearly if things didn’t work out with him I was free to bring him back. So I sadly and reluctantly did just that today. My sister-in-law came with me, bless her heart. It made the day more bearable.

I gave the shelter a detailed account of his temperament and what he HAD learned while he was with me. Like I said, he’s a smart boy. I don’t think he is incorrigible, but he needs someone who has a stronger will than I. Perhaps a man would be better for Finn. And I told them so.

The only time I could have a truly peaceful interaction with him is when he was dead tired after a day of running all over the homestead. I would hold him in my lap and have long conversations about how things could be if we could make it through his tantrums. He looked at me with this expression on his face that said… ‘My dear woman, you don’t know who you are dealing with.’ Sigh. And he was right.

I’ll miss the soft fur on his ears, the beautiful markings on his chest, his puppy feet, and the brown patch on his little bottom.

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In a way, this picture rather captures Finn’s personality.

He had other places on his mind. I was only in his peripheral vision.

Puppies don’t last long at the shelter. I’m confident someone will adopt him soon. But they will have the advantage of knowing a little more about him from the honest biography I handed over. I hope he will grow up to be a good dog.

Ouch!

There. The bandaid is off.

But the owie underneath still hurts.

 

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