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Weighing in, finally.
Guaranteed to make me unpopular in a big hurry, but I've been unpopular before.
I once had a relationship that didn't work out. Her name was Maggie. She had a dark complexion, absolutely gorgeous eyes and a sweet personality. All of my friends that met her liked her, and I was told on more than one occasion, "Man, you've got a keeper there."
There was a black side to her personality, though. She was easily frightened, and lived in terror of screwing up. She was always apologetic, but she had a tendency to lash out, sometimes painfully. She had food issues, too. You could always expect her to get mad if you messed around at suppertime. And she was a talker. No, scratch that: she wouldn't shut up.
Finally, she hurt someone I loved.
As you might expect, the relationship didn't work out. This wasn't someone I could see with little kids, not someone I'd take home to meet the parents. You just never knew with her. I went to the trouble of driving her back to her hometown an hour away, made sure she got with her family, and never looked back.
Some of you reading this are applauding me for being such a good sport. What disappoints me to my very core is that some of you will stop applauding me when I tell you that Maggie was a dog.
Somehow, that makes it different. News flash: NO IT DOES NOT. She was unhappy, I was unhappy. That I took her into my home of my own choice, that she was just an animal caught up in the tide of circumstance, doesn't change anything. It doesn't make me fickle or irresponsible. We tried: I gave that dog as much love as I ever give any animal - any questions on that, ask TheBruce about Shiner - and it just didn't work. She was unhappy.
I don't have any Disney-esque illusions about animals. Kitties, doggies, bunnies, mouses, squirrels...draw them with big round soulful eyes if you want, but keep in mind that they all have teeth, and ZERO compunction to using them on us here at the top of the food chain if the mood strikes them.
Don't delude yourself: that little kitten curled up in the fluffy little ball on the hearth is two generations removed from disembowelling gazelles, and six months homeless from returning to a similar state.
A few of my friends have over the last year or so had to deal with bad human/animal relationships. I sympathize, having been there several times in my 40+ years. They both got a lot of advice, most of it valid, but you know what? They also got judged, publically and privately, in the court of Everyone's Opinion and those judgements were - without exception - unfair and inaccurate.
And that disappoints me. Somehow, when it comes to people we love, and animals we anthropomorphize and think love us, the animals win, and that seems an awful lot like - pardon the expression - the tail wagging the dog.
Judge this: in my world, if it's a choice between me, my health and safety and that of my family, or the dog? The dog loses.
I once had a relationship that didn't work out. Her name was Maggie. She had a dark complexion, absolutely gorgeous eyes and a sweet personality. All of my friends that met her liked her, and I was told on more than one occasion, "Man, you've got a keeper there."
There was a black side to her personality, though. She was easily frightened, and lived in terror of screwing up. She was always apologetic, but she had a tendency to lash out, sometimes painfully. She had food issues, too. You could always expect her to get mad if you messed around at suppertime. And she was a talker. No, scratch that: she wouldn't shut up.
Finally, she hurt someone I loved.
As you might expect, the relationship didn't work out. This wasn't someone I could see with little kids, not someone I'd take home to meet the parents. You just never knew with her. I went to the trouble of driving her back to her hometown an hour away, made sure she got with her family, and never looked back.
Some of you reading this are applauding me for being such a good sport. What disappoints me to my very core is that some of you will stop applauding me when I tell you that Maggie was a dog.
Somehow, that makes it different. News flash: NO IT DOES NOT. She was unhappy, I was unhappy. That I took her into my home of my own choice, that she was just an animal caught up in the tide of circumstance, doesn't change anything. It doesn't make me fickle or irresponsible. We tried: I gave that dog as much love as I ever give any animal - any questions on that, ask TheBruce about Shiner - and it just didn't work. She was unhappy.
I don't have any Disney-esque illusions about animals. Kitties, doggies, bunnies, mouses, squirrels...draw them with big round soulful eyes if you want, but keep in mind that they all have teeth, and ZERO compunction to using them on us here at the top of the food chain if the mood strikes them.
Don't delude yourself: that little kitten curled up in the fluffy little ball on the hearth is two generations removed from disembowelling gazelles, and six months homeless from returning to a similar state.
A few of my friends have over the last year or so had to deal with bad human/animal relationships. I sympathize, having been there several times in my 40+ years. They both got a lot of advice, most of it valid, but you know what? They also got judged, publically and privately, in the court of Everyone's Opinion and those judgements were - without exception - unfair and inaccurate.
And that disappoints me. Somehow, when it comes to people we love, and animals we anthropomorphize and think love us, the animals win, and that seems an awful lot like - pardon the expression - the tail wagging the dog.
Judge this: in my world, if it's a choice between me, my health and safety and that of my family, or the dog? The dog loses.
no subject
But do I disagree with you? No, I don't. No firestorm here.
That's the quick answer cause I have to finish a skirt and grommet a bodice and pack...all in about 45 minutes.
But by god, the laundry is dry and the turkey is smoked!
no subject
At least it's not the other way around...
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And I have to agree that the correct choice was made. And that it was handled in the best possible way. (No dump-them-on-the-side-road approach, thank goodness)
I would also offer this thought - any choice involving family safety and security invariably leads to the potential for results that are likely to create a firestorm in certain quarters. Only you can say with absolute certainty that you made the 'right' choice for you.
no subject
no subject
Still, I've had to do what you must, and I grok in fullness. Those who know us the best will know and comprehend that it is harder on us who must do the deed than it could ever be on the animal.