A Forever Goodbye

 On Tuesday, when we came home, Thorin was still in his kennel, and all was well.  I was so grateful.  That evening, Sam dashed past us, out the door, and ran in the neighborhood for an hour.  Laina chased him while I rushed to pick up Lexi and take her to dance for the next three hours, leaving Laina home alone to take care of the dogs.  That night, Sam kept coming up and staring at us with his big brown eyes, telling us his discontentment, asking for more fun outside.  We all went on a walk before bed, but he wanted to run.

On Wednesday, I left them home alone for a couple of hours while I went to the Nehemiah study, which was inspiring and helpful.  So worth it!  Sam and Thorin, however, were sad from being left alone even for such a short time, so I took them to my friend’s backyard to run while I swam laps.  Several times, Sam jumped in to swim with me, and he had a blast.  I got a call about homes for them five hours south of us.  At first, I was hopeful, but when I discovered that Sam would become an outdoor guard dog and Thorin would live on a boat that was headed to Mexico, I deflated.  They wouldn’t be happy in those situations, so we were back to square one. 

When I arrived home, they tried to chase the cats.  I forgot that I’d opened the bedroom door for the cats to explore while we were gone.  Little by little, we have been introducing the cats and dogs to each other.  Piper runs and hides, but Zeus is curious…until he has a dog right in his face, and then he hisses and runs back into the bedroom.  Both dogs will stare at the cats with curiosity, but they also still chase after the cats.

This time, on Thursday, we leave all the pets home for eight hours.  I teach two classes and have office hours.  Lexi sends me a text that she’s in the clinic at school because her ear hurts so much.  I have another class to teach, so she has to stay at school but they won’t give her any pain reliever.  I worry about her but am glad she was able to text me.  My phone broke last week, so our cell phone situation is also a mess.  I have Lexi’s phone, she has one of her older phones (because the one I bought her off Craigslist wouldn’t receive or send any texts), Laina has a cracked phone.  I know the phones are a metaphor:  we literally have trouble communicating via our phones just as we are having trouble communicating with ourselves, each other, the world, God.  We don’t want to listen to the truth about the dogs.  Before leaving work, I get a distressing email regarding finances.

I am feeling discouraged, defeated, and angry when I go to my twenty-minute Fix appointment, yet the muscle therapy helps me release the negative emotions along with the tensed muscles.  We discuss the body-mind connection, and I feel so much better when I leave—relaxed and centered again.

That afternoon, we all arrive home at the same time.  Laina lets Sam out of the bathroom and says, “You’ve got to come see this.”  The dogs are dancing around us, and Lexi hurries over to look.  Both girls have nervous grins of disbelief on their faces.  They grab the leashes and take the dogs out, insisting that I wait until they are outside to see for myself. 

I take a deep breath and walk into the demolished bathroom.  Paint peelings are scattered all over the bathroom floor, and the bottom half of the door is completely scratched free of white paint.  Bite marks etch the siding, and black hair litters the floor. 

I’ve got nothing.  My feelings shut down, my mind shuts down, and my words are gone. 

He wanted out.  He wanted to be with us.  He didn’t mean to destroy anything.  I know all of that.  At the same time, my responsibility and financial threshold is already overflowing, and I …

The girls bring the dogs back inside, and Lexi starts crying.  Laina follows, and they both cry.  We sit at the dining room table, the dogs lying at our feet, and I ask what’s going on with them.

Laina says, “What do you think?!  We’re gonna have to get rid of the dogs.  We’re all exhausted and the dogs aren’t happy and the cats are…”

Lexi interrupts, “I knew it.  I knew we would have to let them go, but I didn’t want to face it.  When Dad first told us, I knew we’d have to say goodbye to them, but I thought he was gonna give them to a friend and that was okay because they’d be together and they’d be happy.  It’d easier if I hadn’t seen them again.  But when he mentioned taking them to a kill shelter, I knew it was right to bring them here even if I knew it wouldn’t work.  Why did they have to stay so long?  When they were first here, I was okay with them going to a foster home, to saying a temporary goodbye.  How can we break them up?  They’ll be so sad.  How can we give them away?  I know it’s the right thing to do, but they’re our family and it’s like giving away part of your family. This is just like the divorce all over again.  We’re breaking up our family again.  I know we can see the good in it, that we’re learning, that we have to let go of them to let go of the past, but why do we have so many hard things to go through.  I’m glad we get the hard things, glad for this opportunity because it’s an opportunity for emotional and spiritual growth.  I know that there will be something good come from this, and that’s why it has to happen. God is actually telling me that it’s okay to let them go.  But it’s just really hard.” 

“I’m sorry this is hurting you girls so much. I’d give anything if we could keep them.  Something good will happen, and remember we’re doing what we think is best for them and all of us.”  I pause.  “You might want to say goodbye to them tonight.”

Lexi sobbed, “Why?  It doesn’t have to be so soon.  I’m not ready.”

“It has to be this weekend ‘cuz we can’t leave them home alone again.  Do you wanna go with me to take them to a rescue place?”

“Yes.  It’d be easier if they were dying because then we’d know what happens to them.  If we give them up, we won’t know how they’re being treated or if they’re happy.”

Laina adds, “Exactly!  It’s like giving a baby up for adoption and not knowing.  You don’t know if they’re gonna abuse them or if they’re gonna love them or if they mistreat them.” 

“That’s why we wanna carefully choose a rescue place and not just take the first option.  The ones that take labs make sure they have a good home with people who adore labs.  Remember what you read this morning?  God turns our curses into blessings because He loves us.  It’ll be okay.  For all of us.”

We eat dinner and then take the dogs to run, swim, and play in our friend’s backyard.  The girls treasure every moment, knowing they will soon have to say a forever goodbye.

Bits of Hugs and Dirt

Sam and Thorin arrived in Brevard County at noon on Wednesday as planned.  I had no words.  For twenty-four hours, I could not articulate my feelings, and I am still finding it difficult to describe.

They arrived filthy, mangy, smelly, malnourished, looking like dogs rescued from a pound or an abandoned farm. So different from the dogs we had left behind.  

The lady who brought them down to Florida helped me put them directly into the bathroom.  She mentioned that they needed to start in a smaller space and said, “Looks like they haven’t had a bath in three years.  Good luck.”  With the girls at school for the next four hours, I was alone except for our two cats exiled into a bedroom and our two dogs now barking in the bathroom. 

Within twenty minutes, Thorin began scratching at the door and yelping while Sam patiently waited in the bathtub.  My stomach curled, and I couldn’t eat the leftover curry for lunch.  I finally took Thorin out and put him in the dog kennel.  Already, he had pooped in the bathroom to express his upset at being locked up.

I placed my hands over my face.  No words.  No tears.  No ideas.  I was heartsick and lost.  Despair wrapped itself around me, and I prayed for help. 

I’d texted a few friends and family members about the dogs’ arrival and condition, and a local friend offered help.  I put on old clothes over my swimming suit, loaded the dogs into the van, and drove them to my friend’s house where we hosed and shampooed them outside.  I scrubbed and scrubbed, but nothing could help Thorin who had poop matted into his fur. 

I assessed them both and noticed they have rashes and Thorin is even losing hair on his legs.  They each have unexplained growth or tumors.  Both too thin, their eyes appeared sick and sad.      

With a fenced in backyard at my friend’s house, I let the dogs run and explore while I swam laps in the pool.  Fascinated by my fun in the pool, Sam jumped in and promptly panicked.  After I showed him how to exit at the steps, he had a favorite new game.  He jumped in and swam straight for me every time until I nudged him towards the stairs, so he could get out.  We played until they were exhausted and the girls were home from school to help. 

Lexi cleaned the bathroom while Laina gave Thorin a haircut and I washed their collars and leashes.  Laina noticed a few fleas, so I treated them with what we had in the house:  cat flea medicine.

Like me, the girls experienced mixed emotions:  happy to hug Sam and Thorin again, horrified at their appearance, thrilled they were rescued from death, worried about what to do next.

I had a class to teach that night, and on the way home from work, I wracked my mind for a solution for the next day when we would all three be at work or school.  There’s no way we could leave the dogs and cats home alone, even in different rooms.  I remembered a childhood poem, “The Duel” by Eugene Field, about a gingham dog and calico cat left alone and how there would be a “terrible spat” and how the “Air was littered, an hour or so, / With bits of gingham and calico.”  I knew the ending of the poem could very well reflect the outcome:

Next morning, where the two had sat
They found no trace of dog or cat;
And some folks think unto this day
That burglars stole that pair away!
      But the truth about the cat and pup
      Is this: they ate each other up!

Not wanting to come home to murder of cats, dogs, or our property, I knew that I had to do something.  After placing three calls, I found a friend of Lexi’s who agreed to hang with the dogs for the day. 

For me, it is not even one day at a time right now.  It is one problem at a time.  One step at a time.

When I returned home from work, all three of us took the dogs on a long walk.  Sam, still over-stimulated by the trip, jerked me all over.  Thorin, still stubborn as ever yet now old, moved slowly, at times refusing to budge.  As the dogs explored the area, we discussed the situation. 

Now that they are here with us, how can we bear to say goodbye again?!  Yet, how can we possible keep them?!

With no easy answers, we all seven fell into bed wiped out that night.  Laina slept in the living room with the dogs while Lexi kept the cats company in her room.