Dear Universe,
I am struggling so hard tonight. Charlie and I have convinced ourselves - almost entirely - that Louie needs to go. In the hierarchy of order in our house, our two-year-old rescue dog has definitely placed himself above our children. We absolutely have strived AGAINST this happening, and yet it has.
And we know.
We just know that this order of hierarchy will not do.
And we know.
We know and have tried so hard to work with the children - and Louie - to reverse this order and unfortunately, we do not possess the super human ability to reverse such a powerful force as the Napoleonic complex of a small to medium sized dog.
We grieve about this. It was our intention that we'd be Louie's forever family. But when Louie has turned on our children not once, not twice, but three times. And perhaps even more than three times, but they've it hidden it from us because they understand the consequences of Louie's action. And when he has bitten not one, not two, but three dogs in our neighborhood (and perhaps even killed the cat up the street) .... we know.
We just know.
We don't trust him. This past weekend, we were out of town and left Louie in the care of a friend. During the time that he was with her, he pulled away during a walk and got in to a dog fight with another dog. Such a bad dog fight situation, that a passerby had to stop their vehicle and risk limb to separate the two brawling dogs.
And we wonder...
How much longer before he behaves in such a way that we are paying for an astronomical vet fee to mend another dog? Or worse yet, euthanize it? Is it possible that it could come to that? Yes, it's entirely possible, considering Louie turns in to Cujo whenever another dog that he thinks he can dominate comes around. At this point in time, the possibility of our children taking Louie for a walk, without an adult, is nil because I have no faith in him.
Not trustworthy and not faithful.
Certainly not the two adjectives you'd want to use when describing a canine companion.
Tonight, we went to a Girl Scout function and at that function there was a 10-week old yellow Labrador Retriever. And when that puppy crawled in to our laps, and completely fell asleep - my husband looked and me and said, "Jen. THIS. This is precisely what our family needs. We do not need a dog that we are just waiting to have kill or maim another dog. Or God forbid, our children."
But then we came home, and Louie greeted us at the door with his tail wagging, and I wonder, am I not trying hard enough? What can I do more? Will he ever outgrow this?
Tomorrow, Charlie has every intention of turning Louie over. He's really wanted to do it for quite some time, but I've been the hold out. Hoping, praying, begging that he'd do something amazing. Perhaps he'd be our rescuer from a burning house. Or intruding robber.
Or best yet, intruding robber that caught our house ablaze.
The children understand. Or at least, they comprehend that Louie may be gone from our family soon. And Carolyn - who is by far the most attached to Louie, and previously has told me that if he goes, SHE GOES ... suddenly changed her tune and told me tonight that if we were to give Louie away, we could only do so on three (3) conditions:
1. The person who adopts Louie must love dogs.
2. They must be kind to Louie.
3. And they must never, ever, give him away. No matter what happens.
At this point, the only thing that can quell my intense guilt complex is chocolate. Thank goodness, I've got enough Halloween candy to last me through next year. Or at least Veteran's Day.
