Friday, June 15, 2012


It is with trepidation that I write this column. The past few days have been difficult for me. I finally made the decision to get some more dogs, after 3 plus years without my sweet guy, Snoopy and one and a half years without my little girl, Mikey. If you have read some of the things I wrote in the past, you know I loved them dearly. 

As it happens, when I went to the Animal Shelter to choose some dogs, two of them clearly stood out. They could have been younger siblings of Snoopy and Mikey, only 7 months old. Short haired, thin medium sized dogs, they were clearly very, very sweet. Both of them had stayed at the pound their entire lives, since they were but puppies. 

I cried as I signed the paperwork and brought them home. They were clearly excited, and ran around with abandon.  I did not mind cleaning up the pee several times, and took them outside for numerous walks. 

However, there was a problem. They were literally tearing up everything in the house. Literally. The carpets, the walls, the paneling, anything paper, my clothes, my shoes, my books…. I went to the store to get them some chew toys, but they completely ignored them, going after anything and everything else about the home. I got a strip of bacon and greased up the chew toys. They ignored them. (I’m serious.) They begged for some of my cheetos, and I tried covering the bones with that. They ignored them. At one point I had to leap across the room to keep one of them from chewing through electrical wire. 

To say I had a great deal of stress would be putting it mildly. Around midnight of that first day, I broke out in a horrible rash that was very painful and is just healing now.  But the worst part of it was I began having chest pains; very mild ones but still they were there nonetheless. I got about one and a half hours sleep that night.

I had never envisioned keeping the dogs in crates nor keeping them as just yard dogs, both of which I feel are somewhat cruel. I wanted them for companionship, to love and care for as I had Mikey and Snoopy. It was with deep regret that I realized the next morning that this was just not going to work. They both needed at the very least 2 weeks worth of dog school, which altogether would cost more than two thousand dollars, which I do not have. 

So, I called the folks back and informed them I would be bringing them back, for my own health’s sake. Once again, I cried as I brought them back. I found it difficult to even speak. And now, my house is empty again. 

I am reassured by the fact that they told me they would not put them to sleep. I asked God to send angels to these sweet, sweet animals, to give them a loving home. And I’m crying again now. What was meant as an opportunity to love has turned into disaster. And I hate it…  it just hurts.