Last week I took an unexpected hiatus from the blog. Allow me to explain the mentally and physically exhausting events that took place. You may have noticed that we adopted a cuddly black Lab. Well Saturday and Sunday as new puppy parents was a total breeze. He was the ideal dog we were looking for; cool, calm and collected. Then Monday happened.
Bryant came home from work to a hurricane of rental house damages. Two sets of blinds splintered and in a pile on the floor, shards of glass strewn about, and a gaping dog sized hole in our back room window. Elvis had literally left the building. Panicked phone calls ensued. One trip to the pound and a $150 x-large dog crate later, we were confident that Tuesday would be better for our little escape artist. With Elvis locked securely in his crate, Bryant set off for a less dramatic work day. Unfortunately that was not the case. That damn dog had Houdini'd us again. He bounded back out the broken window, over the fence and off into the sunset. Luckily, a good Samaritan found him checking out the local Italian establishment in our neighborhood. (At least he has good taste in food.) It was then determined that Elvis could not be left unattended. He even had the pleasure of joining us while our tax guy poured over our annual returns. The stinker never made a peep.
That night, after a bit of research, we came to the conclusion that poor Elvis had severe separation anxiety, thus causing him to engage in destructive behavior. It was unbelievable to me that the sweet boy who often put his slobbery chin on my knee could do these things while we were gone. There were intense conversations, a million "what if we.." scenarios, and a lot of tears before we reached the heart breaking decision that Elvis had to go back. Sad face times one thousand. I felt like we failed him.
So on Wednesday morning in the pouring rain, I did one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I took a dog back to a shelter - a dog that in just four days had me wrapped around his finger. And it sucked. A lot. I cried as I told the worker how amazing he was but that it just wasn't a good fit. It wasn't fair to Elvis. He needed owners that could be home with him far more than our daily lives allow. He needed a big yard with other dogs to keep him company. And yesterday he got just that. My fingers and toes are crossed that Elvis has found his forever home. And I hope they continue to call him Elvis because he really seemed to like it.
The tears have dried. The crate has been returned. The window has been fixed. And, we even have a new puppy prospect. She is a sweet girl named Birdie who can sit and speak and shake. She's quite fond of bones and the occasional tennis ball. I would like to formally welcome her to the animal house that is the chateau Adams. Good behavior permitting, wedding blog formally known as Southern Aisle shall resume tomorrow.
