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DOGGIES

4 November 2009, 21:40

It’s been a day since Buddy went to his new home with Robin. She updated me on how he’s doing today. They love him and he seems very happy. She says he really is the sweetest dog.

I knew that. Buddy is wonderful and I miss him a lot. He needed a family, and the room to run. He even has a little doggie friend his age and a cat he can torture. I really do miss him and I start to choke up when I think about it. I just keep telling myself it was for the best. I needed to do this for his sake. He really is happy and I made Robin and her family happy.

I miss him though. I feel horrible I couldn’t provide for him. My other dogs are acting a little weirder. Jake is more clingy and Milo seems calmer, which is a feat since Milo usually is just a comotosed rug. Milo seems more loving to me now – maybe because the dynamic has changed. I’m not sure if they miss him or are happy he’s gone. But I know he’s gone. I hope he knows that I love him and I did this because I want the best for him.

Dogs have always been a big part of my life. From the time I was wee, I’ve always had a dog, and have always been really close to the dogs I’ve had. They’ve been there as a part of the family, comforting me when the humans around me wouldn’t, loving me when the humans around me didn’t, and cared about me when the humans around me couldn’t. If you know anything about me, I have an attachment that most people wouldn’t call a normal pet/owner relationship. I don’t dress them up or have sex with them, don’t be a moron. I just love them as most would love kids. Some are offended by that notion, but fuck them, I don’t give a rat’s patootey. They are my family. I go without, so they may have food. I go without, so they may have health care. I eat my pride (and pride is a BIG thing with me) so that they can get what they need. It’s probably that I need them more than they need me.

I’ve always taken a great pride in how well my dogs were taken care of. I bought my house with my dogs in my mind – the yard had to be large and there had to be a inside area the dogs could have access to. And I put in a doggie door for them. And bought them special food. And hired a poopy scooper.

When I moved out to Hee Haw, of course they were going to come with me. I had no idea the kind of trials and odyssey that we were going to go through – pitbull attacks, skunks, kennel cough, poverty, bugs, etc. I have always felt like the worst person in the world now that I can only provide the minimal care. Dogs are suffering from allergies, they don’t have near the yard I think they should have, they are cooped up in the house most of the time and the food is subpar to what I usually feed them.

The two older ones, Jake and Milo, have been with me for 7 and 11 years respectively. They are getting to the sedentary, sleeping age. They roll with the punches and are thoroughly my dogs. They get along with each other, Milo being fairly easy going and Jake’s neurosis abated through the years down to something tolerable. Then there’s Buddy. Buddy is two. He is young and full of life. He’s bugs the others to play, and they all jockey for pecking order position. There’s always a little “don’t touch me” tension. Buddy is an English Shepherd which is a herding breed. And he loves to run, and he runs like the wind. I’ve seen him cover an acre in about a minute, he is THAT fast. He is stuck in a small house, with occasional forays into a tiny yard. He watches out the window, probably longing to play with the kids he sees or chase the little animals that come across the property. But he loves us as much as he can. And I love him immensely.

Buddy WAS in a good place back in Dodah. I had a large yard, a doggie door and some distraction for him. Now he is trapped with an old lady and two other geriatric dogs with no room to be himself. He has taken off and escaped about four times this month, and has been brought home by a neighbor, bailed out of doggie jail or comes home on his own. Well, he had taken off about a week ago, roaming the teeny Hee Haw little burg I live in and got tossed into doggie jail Saturday. I’m going to go pick him up today. Hopefully, they haven’t done anything to him, as I have called twice to make sure that they have him, he is safe and they know not to put him to sleep.

I finally decided that I needed to find Buddy a home where he would thrive and like with someone loving, with a lot of land and other animals. My friend Robin is the perfect choice. She’s got a farm and another dog that looks just like Buddy, and I know in my heart, he would love it there and it’s the perfect place for him. She says I can visit him anytime I want. I know this is the right thing for him. I know this is the responsible, and caring thing to do for him. I just feel it rip at my heart a little that I have to do this. That I couldn’t provide what he needed. That part of my family is being taken away because I had failed in someway in my obligation.

I’m going to miss Buddy. He was sweet, smart and loving. I know this is the right thing, but it still feels like a knife in my chest. But I have to do what’s best for Buddy, because he’s not really happy here, and I can’t ask him to go against his nature to try and adapt to this dreck.

I just hope Buddy knows somewhere in his small brain, that this ISN’T a punishment, and that I do love him so much. I really do love you Buddy. I’m sorry.