My friend, Becky, and her family got a dog late last summer. I had warned her that with her fibromalgia, small yard, her husband’s late hours, and a toddler in the house, they would be better off adopting a small, adult dog with a mellow temperament. But her husband insisted they had to get a puppy because he didn’t want to inherit someone else’s bad training. And he wanted a big dog, like he had growing up. They got a golden doodle puppy. Unfortunately, he turned against the puppy after having her only a month. He complained she jumped around too much, wanted too much attention, and needed too much room.
Well, that’s what happens when you have a big puppy.
Long story short, he finally told Becky last week that it was him or the puppy. She called me in tears and it broke my heart hearing her cry. But almost worse was the fact that I wasn’t surprised. I just feared deep down that this day was going to come.
I got very lucky. I emailed a couple of people, one of them my friend Kathi who loves animals and does a lot with them. I didn’t have any hopes; Kathi told me before that she doesn’t have a lot of luck placing dogs, but within a few minutes, she found the perfect new home for the puppy!
But it still meant Becky had to give up her dog; she asked me to go with her on Saturday. Of course, I did. The whole day was heartbreaking. Becky was close to tears all day, and they had told their daughter that the puppy was going to “puppy camp” like a vacation and would be there for a long time. The people who took the dog are wonderful people, and their home is a dog’s dream come true with lots of room to run, another dog her age to play with, and loving people taking care of them. Becky broke down crying in my arms and I just hugged her, and told her that her pup would never forget her. And that she was doing the best thing: she had given her dog a loving person and attention, and now had found the best place for her in the next part of her life.
By the time I got home, I was exhausted from the emotional drain. I hugged my dogs tight, so thankful I was never going to be in Becky’s place. John felt the same way, and kept shaking his head as I told him the whole story and asking how Becky’s doing.
They’re talking about getting another dog in a couple of months, one like I had first suggested (although she said a small terrier, like Casey, but I pointed out that Casey is calm down because she’s 14! She was an energetic dog, like Elphie, until she was about 12! ). I’m hoping they don’t get another dog; that sounds harsh, but I just have this fear that we’ll repeat this whole thing again and that can’t happen.