This Is What They Meant When They Said You'd Have to Make Hard Decisions

In 2005 the dog I had for 13.5 years, since I was 18 years old, got really sick. He lost his hearing, the ability to hold his bowels, some of his vision, and ultimately didn't know who I was. I had to make the incredibly difficult decision to put him to sleep. It was difficult even though I knew that he had no quality of life anymore and wasn't feeling good. I made myself go with him to the vet, and sat with him as he quietly passed. When people lose a beloved pet they seem to generally react in one of two ways; they immediately get a new dog or they can't stand even the idea of getting a new dog for several years or maybe ever. I fell into the former category. I borrowed a dog right away, not being able to stand the loneliness of not having a furry companion to meet me at the door. I was single after all, dying for a family of my own, with no prospects. I got that dog, my first dog, as a 4 week old puppy. I found him on a redneck from hell compound in some shit hole backwoods of North Carolina. A grimy little child was holding two puppies who were dangling by their neck and a bag of doritos. I did everything I knew to raise him right. When he was a few years old one of my roommates had a pit bull who repeatedly attacked him. It was a terrible situation. I don't know if it was that or his nature but he turned mean. I spent most of his life keeping him from children, mailmen, etc. He only liked adults.

When it came time to get a new dog, I wanted to make sure that I got one who would be peaceful. I am a person who believes in being committed to animals and I didn't want another situation where I would have to constantly be fearful of the dog doing something bad. Maybe in retrospect I should have waited and taken more time to find the "perfect" dog, but I thought that I had found the perfect dog for me.

My roommate and I found Cooper in the basement of Montgomery County Humane Society. The behavior specialist asked me to give him a chance. He was quarantined for kennel cough. She said he was a good boy, that he listened well. I took him home and he sneezed green snot all over my walls. I tried to crate train him but he was obviously scared of the crate from past experience. I penned him in the kitchen and for weeks every time I left for work my roommate would call and tell me that he had escaped. My dad would come and fortify the gate, make it taller. He ate the phone. We were all committed to him. I took him through beginner and intermediate behavioral training, took him for walks, let him sleep in the bed. I brought him around every dog and child I could find. He turned out wonderfully. He looked at me with those soulful brown eyes and cuddled with me in bed, letting me use him as a pillow. He let kids poke and prod him. He listened to me and he loved me.

Down the road I met my husband to be and he loved him too. They went jogging in the mornings. He was the lab my husband had wanted. We moved to a big house with a three acre yard. Cooper ran free and chased things and went swimming and jogging. We got him a yellow lab friend. He tolerated that puppy chewing and drooling all over him. We had a baby. He lay in bed with me and my son while I nursed through the night, keeping me company.

Cooper was always anxious though. He feels safe on a leash but when he is loose, he doesn't like unpredictable situations like being cornered or surprised or when there are a lot of people around. We put him outside when people come. He nipped my husbands friend and his father once, but honestly I thought that those situations could have been prevented. We managed things and time passed calmly.

Now my son is a toddler and he loves the dogs. Cooper has growled at him three times now. We are scared that if pushed he may bite him. I find myself in this impossible place, being this person who has to find a dog a good home because of a baby. I scoffed at these types of people, thought they were lazy, bad dog owners, assholes, really. But yet again life has taught me that judging people is just stupid because you don't know what you will do in a given situation. We have talked this to death and we can't live in a situation where we have to worry that our golden beautiful miracle of a child could get hurt in any way. Just today I was cooking dinner and my son ran right to Cooper laying in front of the door and was going to dive right on him. The dog didn't react but my heart froze in my chest. I just can't live like that.

I am trying to spread the word through facebook, everyone I can think of, craigslist, freecyle, everything. If we can only find him a good home with an adult, he would be the greatest most loving companion, just like he was to me. Sometimes I have the faith that this will happen, and sometimes I am filled with despair over who would want a 7 year old dog with his temperament issues. I the meantime, I have to somehow reconcile myself to living with him. I torn between loving him and distancing myself. I haven't slept in my bed since we made the decision several days ago. I am going up there tonight and already hyperventilating at the thought of what it will do to me emotionally. He sleeps up next to me like a body pillow. I USE him as a pillow most nights.

So this is what "they" meant when they said you'd have to make hard decisions when you have children. I never wanted to be this person who gets rid of a dog. I never wanted this situation where I would have to make this type of decision. How did this happen to me again? But here I am, and I will do what's best for my son.

My How Time Flies/ The Struggles of ToddlerHood

I don't know how three and a half months have passed since I last managed a blog. Oh wait, yes I do. I work full time, mother full time, wife full time, cook full time. I make everything the boy eats, pick out everything he wears. And I am NOT COMPLAINING; this is exactly what I want to be doing. It's just that something has got to give, and blogging/ writing in my mommy journal are at the top of that list. I don't want to give these things up entirely though. Time flies... this "baby" is 14 and a half months old!... and I want to document the moments.

Speaking of moments, my best current mommy advice is to cherish every moment, the good, the bad, the ugly, the AMAZING. Recently I found out that a boy I know from elementary school and his wife both were diagnosed with very serious, possibly terminal cancer. They have a toddler who is not even two. They were living a wonderful life. I think of them daily and every time I do, I remind myself to stop and stare at my boy, to appreciate my husband, to thank my parents, and to just live my life and really try not to complain and sweat that proverbial small stuff. It's hard sometimes to focus on the positives and not let things drag you down, but life IS hard and it IS a bitch and it CAN knock the living shit out of you, so you have to just appreciate what you have or you will be pure miserable.

As for that beautiful, phenomenal, delicious, stubborn, willful golden boy of mine... what can I say that won't involve writing a small novel? He is the light of my life. I have such a surge of joy when it is time to pick him up from nannyshare, it makes my whole day. He's at the stage now when he runs to me when I come, and that is better than any drug. Being a mother has always been challenging in some ways and at this stage of the game, there is definitely power struggle involved. I see it with myself, my friends who post on facebook, the other kids in the nannyshare. They start to figure out that they have control, and all hell breaks loose. This is another big lesson for me to just sort of be firm and go with the flow. I try not to get too stressed over days when he wants to whine more than usual, when he wants to spend hours going in and out of the screen door, when he doesn't want to eat or throws all that careful food I make on the floor for the dogs. Ultimately everything levels out; hard days are followed by extremely pleasant, easy ones. Bad food days are followed by him eating everything in sight like a little piggy. He is even learning "no" and some measure of safety. This is important as the kid really has no fear! I want to let him blossom while learning his limits as well.

No one ever said being a mother was easy. It is work almost every minute of every day. But this is the work that I always wanted, so I have to drag my tired ass forward sometimes and really try to be the best that I can be at any given moment. And there is nothing, NOTHING, more rewarding and worthwhile.