By far, the absolute worst aspect of my job is when we have to let go of a dog. Let me expand on my job a little bit:
I see the same 120+ dogs every. Single. Day. The same dogs. It’s not like a vets office where it’s someone else’s pet and they go home and so do you. They are my pets. They are my babies. I see their faces, their eyes, their wiggly tails, and their smiles. From 5:45 in the morning to 2 in the afternoon. Sometimes longer. I spend 40+ hours a week with these dogs. I love them like they’re my own. When they get fostered, it’s amazing. They get to go to a home and get out of the kennel until they are adopted. This is to help prepare them for their forever home. We love watching them leave. And when they get adopted, you can’t imagine our joy. We cry so many happy tears for these amazing dogs. It’s unreal. The fact that we often get pictures of them in their forever homes… that’s the cherry on top. We get to see our babies in a loving home.
And then some dogs never get that chance. There are amazing, beautiful dogs who never know life outside of the kennel. Sometimes we push their pictures on our foster Facebook page so much that it makes people crazy. But we try. A wise woman once said, “Is there a perfect dog for every family? Yeah, I believe so. But sometimes they take a long time to meet. And sometimes they just don’t… and it’s sad.”
That part cuts like an ax to the heart. It’s a lethal pain. It hurts. Some of you may know the story of my Alex. He is the retriever in my picture. Alex was 2, maybe 3 years old. Went to two fosters and he exhibited guarding issues. He was returned twice. Then I came and fell in love with that beautiful face. I wanted him from day 1. I made plans to foster him, then adopt. But when he came home with me, he and my sweet Luna just couldn’t get along. I was devastated beyond words. My soul hurt. I loved that dog with every fiber of my being. We had chosen each other. He was my boy. We wound up adopting Arya. I still saw Alex five days a week. We still bonded. But he started to act out in bad ways and exhibited some serious underlying aggression. I continued to care for him. And then one day in July, I got a text message from my boss. All it said was, “Hey sister, we need to talk about Alex”. I knew what that meant and I broke. My heart shattered. The rest of the conversation was finding out how much time I had and when I needed to be there. It killed me. I had two days…
I don’t regret going. I knew he needed me to help him over the Rainbow Bridge. I was mom and he was my boy. I held him and my husband held me. There’s honestly no words to describe the pain. I still feel it. I’m crying at this moment because my boy never had a real home. And this happens. Sometimes too much to too many incredible dogs.
Try to remember how much it hurt when you let go of your dog.
Now imagine reliving it all over again… twice a week. Three times. Five. How about three times in 24 hours? That is what I do every damn week and it never gets easier.
I have let go of my dogs. I have let go other people’s dogs. I have let go of young dogs, puppies, healthy dogs, sick dogs, old dogs. I have seen the confusion in their faces...
But I keep going. Because the others still need me. Just because you can’t save them all, doesn’t mean you stop trying. That’s my plan: to try. That’s all I can do. Sometimes it pays off in the form of an amazing American bulldog getting spontaneously adopted out of the blue. Or a fun loving hound who is happy to just be laying on carpet instead of concrete. A family getting a new puppy and seeing the joy on the kids’ faces. It’s all worth it to see a good dog go to a forever family. It helps us honor the memory of ones who aren’t with us.
This job breaks us down and rebuilds us to ensure we keep going and are able to fully help our dogs. It’s hard. But it’s the only place I want to be.
