It's been a trying day. This morning, I took Phoenix to the vet to be neutered. One down, three to go. These past 7 days have been awful. We have had to keep Phoenix and his father, Pete separated. While one is out with the other dogs, the other is kenneled in a room, alone, and whimpering. Phoenix has been picking little tussles with Pete and Midnight (the other two males) for so long, Pete just decided that enough was enough - and he's still holding a grudge. They can't be in the same room together without major injuries. Hopefully, getting them neutered will end some of this insanity.
It's not that I feel bad about having them fixed, that part was inevitable, and it's the best thing for him - and the others. I've been telling Roy that it HAS to be done for almost two years now. I just feel like crap because I had to be the one to take him in and drop him off. As I was driving home, I started thinking about what poor little Phoenix must be thinking and feeling after everything that's happened this past week. He doesn't understand why this is happening, he doesn't know why mom abandoned him with some stranger who wants to do strange things to him, he doesn't know that I'll be back to pick him up in the morning. He's never been left alone at the vets office, much less, spent an entire night there. From the day he was born, I've been with him every single day. I couldn't help feeling like the world's worst mom. Why do I always have to be the "bad guy?" Why couldn't Roy take him in, and let me be the "rescuer" who comes to pick him up? It's just not fair.
When I got home, I decided to keep myself busy by finishing up some of the little details on the Asylum. Normally, when I am busy working around the house, I have five curious dogs following me from room to room and everywhere I go. Not today. Today, all four dogs, even Pete, laid in the Living Room, all alone, pouting. When I came upstairs to make some lunch, I looked up to see Angel, Phoenix's mother, sitting in the kitchen doorway - glaring at me. Neither she, nor the other dogs, came to beg food, she just sat there; accusing me of kidnapping and abandoning her pup. I tried to tell her that it was for the best and that her baby would be home in the morning; but she stood up, turned her back on me, and with a swish of her tail, went back to the couch to mourn with her canine family.
Roy and Nick seem to think that it's funny. They think that I'm a fool for feeling the way I do; but they aren't the ones who spend all day with these dogs. They aren't the ones who feed them, bathe them, brush them, walk them, clean up after them, and discipline them. Truthfully, I probably spend more time talking with and caring for these dogs, than I do my husband. How pathetic is that? I gotta get a life.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Posted by Auburn~haired~artist at Thursday, October 29, 2009