The toughest of all good-byes.

The question I get asked the most lately is what I am going to do with my dog Texas. It has been sort of a sore spot and often my response is short. I have noticed that I feel irritated inside when people ask … especially when it seems like they don’t get the hint that maybe it is a subject I don’t want to make small talk about. And that is mostly because deep down I have already known what is going to happen. I just haven’t wanted to deal with the emotional ramifications of it yet but they seem to want to be dealing with me now…. seriously, I just sat and cried in the storage room at work for an hour… I am thanking my lucky stars that I am the only person in the office today because I haven’t cried like that in a long time.  

So to answer your question, I am not keeping Texas and it is breaking my heart.

As many of you know, I got my dog when I was in the middle of treatment for an eating disorder and having to take care of her was the best thing during that time. She taught me how to ‘live’ and ‘feel’ again. Her unconditional love and companionship has meant the world to me- she has been there during some of my most difficult and isolating moments.

And truth be told I don’t think I could have survived what I have been through without her.

It was an especially difficult therapy session the day that I met Texas and my therapist recommended that I go and do something nice for myself that afternoon- something that would make me feel happy and better inside to balance out what we just spent an hour discussing and re-living.

I don’t know if it gets much happier than playing with a cute puppy…  there is something so magical about puppy breath, paws and ears that are too big, that cute swollen puppy belly, and clumsy curiousity. I mean seriously, if a puppy can’t make you smile then something is seriously wrong with you.

I played with Texas for over an hour and fell completely head over heals. I had to have her. I begged Lance for two days until he finally gave in. And even though it took him a little longer … a couple of years … she has stolen his heart away and he needed/needs her as much as I do too.

And at this point maybe even more.

That is the pivotal point where I keep coming to my decision. It seems like the fair thing to do. It feels like the right thing to do. And for the record, the choice has been solely mine to make. It has been a tough one though. Nearly impossible. I am losing my best friend and there is nothing that I really can do about it. This part of the whole divorce process is definitely cutting the deepest. It just hurts.  

And now I think I will go back to sitting on the cardboard boxes in the storage room and cry some more.