Life isn't fair.

As I’m writing this, my heart is still crumbled on the floor of my stomach. That’s my dogs’ fault. Never did I think that an animal could cause so much anger, pain and heart break. But that is one lesson that I’ve learned. If this is even a fraction of what raising a child is like, then maybe I’m not cut out to be a mom. On the other hand, maybe this is God’s way of conditioning me for the trials and challenges of motherhood. There have been many times that we have threatened to take the dogs back to the Humane Society, that they’ve crossed the line, that that was the last straw. Never have we been closer than the last couple days. I even posted an ad on Craigslist, pictures and all. “A small rehoming fee of $50 to cover their things: leashes, bowls, food, treats, kiddie pool, tie-out, XL kennel, toys, bandanas, beds, large water container, shampoo, doggy toothpaste, harness, collars, bones.” I took it down after two hours.
                They deceived us. We trusted them and were betrayed by our own. I am a firm believer that everything is a part of God’s plan, I have to be. But even through the anger, disgust and ocean of tears that have been spilled, they are still ours. “Forgive them Father, for they know not what they do.” They still need us. I’m still not sure if I can stand to look at them, but it hurts less than the thought of giving them away. Maybe time will set things back to normal. They can never be the way they were, but maybe things will get easier.
                I want to get this out of the way first, because I want to go on to show that our dogs aren’t monsters. Creations of nature that were born to hunt: yes, monsters: no. If they were evil, aggressive and unpredictable, then that Craigslist ad would have stayed active.

Saturday, September 19, started out as a beautiful morning. Oktoberfest the night before made for a slightly groggy morning, but not unmanageable. The sun was shining as standard in the Sun City. Oil changes in both vehicles were at the top of the day’s priority list. First was the Camry. A quick trip to the dealership, followed by a greasy, drive-thru breakfast settled everything from the night before. Chris and I headed back home to make the car swap and finish the errands. Upon arriving home, everything was fine. Everyone was where they were supposed to be, and everyone was happy. We finished our breakfasts, grabbed my set of keys and walked back out the door.
                My dealership estimated a wait of over two hours, so we did some car shopping, crossed the street to the mall, grabbed some rawhides for the dogs and went back to pick up my car and head home. Upon entering the front door, we immediately knew something wasn’t right. The dogs were on the opposite side of the security gate, which was supposed to barricade off the upstairs, where my Louis prowled and was safe. They had gotten to him and taken him from me.  Louis was my two-year old tabby who was rescued from a dumpster. Two dogs, which have lived unceremoniously with cats for a year, turned into something else. I have never met these dogs that would move a full-size bed across a room to hunt another member of our family. I have never met these dogs that would wedge a futon away from the wall in a blind rage of pursuit. I have never met these dogs that would take the life of my most loved possession in the name of sport.

Chris and I have many theories: 1. The addition of Pete to our family has created a pack-mentality with Grace. She has gained a confidence and Pete promotes it. 2. Louis never ventured downstairs and, once the dogs managed to get through the security gate, was viewed as a strange animal. 3. It started as chasing and playing before their natural instinct to pursue engaged.

In any instance, I am no less upset. It has taken everything in my soul to hold back more tears. It may sound stupid to some to have a connection with a cat, but it was Louis and I against the world for a long time. Louis was the only constant in my life before Chris, and the dogs that we brought into the house were the reason he is no longer here. I know Catholics aren’t supposed to believe that animals have souls, but the thought of never seeing him again is too devastating to bear. For now I will hope that he is chasing birds away from St. Francis and crying for treats. And the dogs are being moved outside.

As angry and hurt as I am, the dogs did not understand Louis’ value in my life, and they did not understand that he was mine. And continuing to punish them won’t help either, as they don’t remember what they did 15 minutes ago. Have I lost all trust in them? Yes. We still have one cat, Jake, and recently Chris got me a nine week old kitten, named Louis, to help with the healing process. Was it irresponsible to think dogs and cats could live together? I don’t think so. Will the dogs be allowed in the house while the cats are free? No. Is this an ideal situation? No, but the dogs have solidified the fact that life isn’t fair.

In the end, through all of the steps of grieving, through the agonizing despair, the intense hatred, the lack of understanding and the reminiscing, Pete and Grace are still mine. Maybe this does make me a mom.  Maybe this is the greatest lesson they will teach me. That through life’s tragedies, struggles and challenges, we must persevere together. I would not give up a child, and I cannot give up on them. Chris and I have chosen them, and we are obligated to honor that promise until they grow old and pass on. We have made a choice that is binding, a lifelong undertaking that we do not take lightly. True, this is the hardest decision that we have ever made, but they are still ours.