When fate kicks you in the face...

You have a big heart, IJAG, and one of the side effects is it gets broken from time to time. But it's what endears you to us, a woman whose full-out love and affection for animals and everything else who gets our hearts to expand a size or two, because we know they should.

You did what was right for the dog. And there will be another one with a belly you won't resist scratching, and by then you'll have a place both for that dog to live and to stay in your heart.

 

Sorry to hear, IJAG.

 

I definitely feel bad for you, IJAG. I'm also much more of a cat person, but our extended family's had some dogs and I've gotten along with a few of them.

You really are a tremendous person. This thread is just one example.

 

IJAG - you will find true animal love again. I am so sorry your heart hurts.

 

Then again, another may walk up to you when you least expect it, like in a Walmart parking lot, and steal it away too.
It sucks, I know...

 

Oh, how I feel your pain, ijag. I know exactly how you’re feeling; you know you did right by this pup, but will always wonder if you made the right call for two weeks of internet service. EDIT: UPON RE-READ THIS MORNING I'M UPSET TO SEE HOW THIS MIGHT COME OFF AS FLIPPANT; THE COMPUTER ILLITERATE THAT I AM PUTS ALL THINGS REQUIRING A 'CONNECTION' UNDER THE SAME UMBRELLA -- HOW STOOPID TO COMPARE MY SITCH WITH A STOOPID SUMMER GIG TO YOUR PREDICAMENT. MY SINCEREST OF APOLOGIES IF THAT SEEMS LIKE I WAS DOING.

For me, my second-guess and heartbreak is going on 33 years now. Darned dogs…

I’m sure I’ve told this tale here before, but what the hell. It was june ’77. working at a hotel in the catskills, that I and a couple of buddies came upon a dog in really sorry shape, obviously physically abused, undernourished, afraid of its own shadow and terrified of people. Any time we tried to approach her she’d back off, not running, ‘cause she didn’t seem strong enough, with her tail between her legs.

I ran up to the hotel, into the main kichen and had a couple of guys help me bring some water and leftovers from that day’s lunch.the dog hadn’t gone anywhere but my friends hadn’t been able to get closer to her, either.

Well, we eventually lured the dog to sample the goods. We gave her space to eat/drink. Needless to say, the meal didn’t last very long. One of the guys rushed off to the market to buy a box of ‘milk bones’ and yada yada yadam got her into our living quarters on hotel grounds. She stayed in my room, started eating three square a day, so to speak. We brought her to the local vet for a full-body exam; she was about 2, maybe 3. she’d been abused but he believed she was definitely salvageable, ‘a good dog underneath all this.’ Oh, and she was pregnant. Not for much longer , though. No way we could handle a batch of ‘em, so the doc took care of that..

Yada yada yada, by mid-summer, I had a beautiful, fit, loving, gentle dog. She loved being shampooed, hosed down and brushed. She was a beauty. Only ‘catastrophe’ was an unfortunate run-in she had with a skunk (we/I let her run free whenever she wished to keep in shape; she was quite fast and loved galloping about) and couldn’t understand why all her loving friends were running from her – that’s how incredibly she’s been ‘skunked.’ We tried every which way to de-louse her, including a tomato-juice bath that did not go well at all. Back to the vet for a ‘skunk bath.’ Picked her up the next day, looking and smelling just lovely.

At summer’s end, when it was time for us to get back to school, I volunteered to take her, ‘skippy’ was a big hit with the other guys in my ‘suite’ and on-campus, which she roamed to her heart’s content. When she walked with me, it seemed liked EVERYONE knew skippy. I was a bit jealous. Yada yada yada, graduation in may, one last summer working at the catskills hotel, skippy riding shotgun to see all he friends and the ol’ ‘hood….

Third day in, when staff was allowed to live in the ‘worst’ real rooms until the season officially started, a maid found skippy in my room nd reported it to her superior. Yada yada yada, I was FIRED unless the dog went away. I panicked, freaked that I knew no one to take skippy for a summer; my folks loved her but always said she was MY dog, that they would NEVER have a dog living in their Brooklyn apt.

My mind raced. Like I said, I was in full panic mode. I felt I needed this summer job to have some money when I went home to begin the job search. Again, I PANICKED and made the worst, most regrettable decision of my life – a buddy drove me to the local animal shelter, I filled out some papers, and voila! Skippy was up for adoption.

I cried all the way back to the hotel, which welcomed me back for that crummy effin’ job. By late afternoon, after one of my best buds (to this day) looked at me and said, ‘I can’t believe you gave skippy away,’ I lost it. When I got myself composed, I stormed to one of the pay phones adjacent to the hotel lobby, and called my folks back in Brooklyn. Mom answered.

All I said was, ‘hi, mom? I had to give ‘skip---,‘ I couldn’t finish the sentence. . mi composed myself again and told her the tale, and of course she said, ‘of course we’ll take ‘skippy!’ I can’t believe you thought we wouldn’t. you know how your father loves walking that dog….’

I couldn’t believe it. My prayers had this was a Saturday, my buddy who volunteered to drive and I had to work on Sunday but would leave to pick up ‘skippy’ Monday morning to pick up skippy for the drive home. I called the shelter to ask them if they could house ‘skippy’ until then.

The woman said, ‘um, ‘skippy’s’ not here anymore – a lovely young couple with a little boy adopted her about an hour ago. That boy and your dog fell in love at first sight, I’ll tell ya. I’m so sorry.’

Talk about your heart dropping. Talk about bittersweet. I was happy for of ‘skippy’ that she had found a loving (by all appearances) but felt as if a loved one in my family had died. … I’ve probably thought of ‘skippy’ every day since that june in late ’78. talked about her to all my ensuing girl friends, guy friends, wife and boys. Mrs. Shockey rolls her eyes whenever I tell a ‘skippy’ story.

Man, I still cry just thinking about all that. And about how much loved that one, action-packed year, always wondering if she spent the rest of her life happy. And second-guessing myself for the worst decision I’ve ever made in my life to this day.

Damn dogs.

your heart was in the right place, ijag. You did all you could to make sure this pup would end up in a happy home. Sadly, just not your home. But you will again let a dog into your hart, trust me.

It took me only 25 to let another dog into my heart and into my family’s heart. ‘shockey’ has been worth every second, teaching us all lessons about unconditional love hard to find elsewhere.

And, yes, ‘shockey’ has heard all my ‘skippy stories’ ad nauseam, too. Hey, no member of my family is spared those!

 

IJAG, this is going to be a very prosaic answer to a very heartfelt post.

Take the $100/month you were going to pay someone to keep her, and get your down payment together. When you have the house and the yard, someone will show up to play in them. Then, you can thank Blue Moon for helping get you to that place.

 

Kind of a big deal when you need 18 mbps or whatever minimum to run the programs you have to have for work. Not like I just wanted to play Farmville.

And tart, I'm already on that. Pretty sure I won't get a dog, though. Never wanted one before. Don't really want one now. It was just a special case.

 

We had to give our dog up a couple of months ago for baby-related reasons and we're planning to get another this summer. Last night, my buddy came over and brought his dog, as well as our other friend's dog, whom he's keeping this weekend. The second dog, Jackson (a boxer), belongs to an old roommate of mine, and I lived with the guy when he got him and helped train him. And that dog is AMAZING, and remembered me right away, and I just played with him for a few hours. Then they left and went home.

So now I have to talk my wife into getting a boxer. Wish me luck.

 

IJAG, all of that was a roundabout way of telling you I completely feel your pain. You probably don't want to hear this right now, but another dog will find its way into your life. And that dog will be so, so lucky to have found you.

 

I will never not have a cat, and don't wish to go through life without one.