I’m not deleting my last post; the situation was what it was, and the fact that it was resolved doesn’t make what happened any easier to sleep with at night. I am, however, deleting the tag and changing the title.
Before it got better, it actually got worse. A friend of the family suggested I contact a rescue group called Halfway Home Rescue. I wrote a (looking back on it now) pitiful, seriously pathetic message to them through Facebook. No response. The friend had mentioned that they’re small, so to keep trying; this was hard, because I was getting desperate. I wrote a second time. This time, to my horror, I got an answer. Part of it:
“You [sic] dog has some very serious medical conditions that private non-profits will not be able to afford. We suggest you look for low cost veterinary care and resolve her medical conditions rather than expecting a rescue to pay. If she gets on her feet, perhaps a rescue will be able to help. When you adopt an animal, it is supposed to be for life.” I responded heatedly; it was a very bad time, is my only excuse, and I still find that reply completely heartless. At which point they wrote me back saying that I needed to act like a responsible dog owner… which was what I was trying to be. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive them for that.
However, somewhere in there Michelle from Animal Haven got in touch with me about my post on Facebook – and, thank God, she couldn’t have been kinder or more patient. She has apparently had to deal before with people facing some of the worst moments of their lives. We emailed back and forth for a few days, and then one Saturday I called her. She suggested I bring Daisy in to meet her. I came home alone. And that is a drive I don’t think I want to dwell on, ever. Michelle was again wonderfully patient as I checked in with her every now and then to see how Daisy was doing… and then on December 2 she replied that they found a place for her, with a stay-at-home mom, whose kids already adored Daisy. There was a photo posted on Facebook, of possibly the most content-looking dog I’ve ever seen.
So, while I won’t delete that earlier post … things got better. Sort of. Animal Haven turned out to be a true blessing. Michelle took immediately to Daisy, and Daisy glommed onto her enough that I don’t think she noticed when I left. And … On the one hand I don’t have to worry about her anymore. She’s happier, and I have a little more freedom to do what I need to do and also not worry about not being home, and then of course there’s the only-apartment-I-could-afford-but-which-doesn’t-take-pets. But after almost two months I’m still reluctant to get out of the car when I get home. Every day, twice a day, I would pull in to the driveway, and as soon as I got a window or door open I would hear the barking. It’s incredibly hard still to stand on a silent doorstep, and go into an empty and silent house. It’s hard to handle that silence; it took a while before I could get to sleep without music or a podcast playing, something, anything. It’s hard to have the whole bed to myself.
And that is all I’m going to say about that situation. I didn’t particularly want to write this – but I couldn’t not clear things up about Animal Haven. The person I originally spoke to there was, apparently, an aberration, or also having a very bad day.
I was going to insert a picture of Daisy here… but I’m not that sadistic.
‘Bye, my Brussels. Miss you.