So, I decided to go walk dogs at the animal shelter.
When I got there it was...overwhelming. The sound of terrified dogs baying against their fear and loneliness echoed off the walls. Shit and piss and vomit and kibble. It was too much for me. It was way too much for the shivering black spotted pup.
According to the sign on the front of the kennel, she was a "lab mix". I learned in the months to come that it was shelter policy to automatically euthanize "Pit Bulls". Many Am Staffs** that were deemed adoptable were mislabeled to save their lives.
She was 3 months, black and white with a small scar on her right flank that I never got an explanation for but utterly broke my heart. She was bashful and sweet and desperate for quiet and love.
I resisted her. She was already supposed to have a home. I was just helping to get her read for that forever family. The background check for the family fell through. I filled out the form.
She was perfect. The kind of dog that was happy to get ice cubes and would sit with said cube balanced on the top of her nose...patiently waiting for permission to take it. We were inseparable. She was...perfect.
Two years was all I got. Addison's Disease wasted her quickly and when her suffering got to be too much I made the decision to put her down.
She was the best, most heart breaking choice I'd ever made.
*This bit-o-sharing is part of the I <3 Rescue Dogs blog fest. Go support all the other blogs involved!*