I’m going to have to find a new home for the dog or take her back to the pound. More and more over this last week, I’ve realized that this whole puppy thing just isn’t going to work. My job is getting more and more demanding. The last 2 days I’ve spent locked to my desk for nearly 10 hours at a time and more is coming. G doesn’t want to take on the effort of raising a dog and since *I* was the one who said I wanted it, it’s not fair to ask her, just like she doesn’t ask me to do the majority of the care for Peaches, who she got before we were together.
I just let my heart run away with my head and when that happens, things don’t usually turn out too well (thinking back to my first marriage). This is a perfectly lovely dog, but she’s starting to dig up the yard/garden and G has put so much sweat and blood (literally) into it that I just can’t let that happen. She’s chewed (lightly) up a pair of my shoes and while in the greater scheme of things, these aren’t huge, they are just signs that puppy raising should not be in my future.
I think something happened to me in the years between when I met my first husband, had my daughter and had to deal with all the intervening stuff of running scared, living with a drunk, trying to parent a pregnant teen, whatever. Something broke. I don’t really feel that I can attach TOO closely to anything. I suppose our relationship is the exception to that, but even then there are times when I find myself almost unconsciously making “contingency” plans in case she’s hurt or we break up or something.
So, I’m sad about not keeping the dog, but I guess I’m even sadder about not being more devastated by it. Does that even make sense? I have no idea. I want the dog to have a good like, a good home and people who love her without reservation. I can’t do that anymore–I can’t find that place of unconditional pet love. When I saw her last week and she leaned into me, I thought maybe I had got it back, but everything that’s happened this week and my reactions to it tell me I haven’t. Even the “better” feeling I have in my gut about not keeping her tells me I’m right.
I’m still discombobulated about how everything has been since we got back from Australia. I haven’t even played with the photos except to get a set of them off the camera, which is unusual for me. Between me working down here and G working in the yard and then playing her Farmtown, we hardly even speak anymore. How did we go from vacation to hell in less than 2 weeks?
I don’t know. I just don’t know.