Please note - Mosf of this was already posted early this morning on both Instagram and Facebook, so unless you have the desire to feel bad again, feel free to wait for the next post. I've added a few things, but it's mostly the same.
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OK I just want to get through this. Warning - this is a long sad post, but I just wanted people to hopefully understand both our decision and our heartbreak. Sometimes the best thing is also the most awful.
First meeting, and adoption day a few days later.
This weekend we had to return our beloved Angus to the foster parents who had him when we adopted him from the rescue he was in. On Saturday, he attacked Alfie, and though Alfie is fine, it was the second time that it happened (the first was when he first came home; it was less serious and we realized he was new to everything), and this time, @philly.tim had a much harder time getting him to stop and let go.
We were told from the rescue that he was fine with cats, but even though our cats are very chill and are not running around all day, he never was completely able to even just co-exist with them. We tried our very best for 8 weeks and two days, but after Saturday, decided that it wasn't fair to Angus, the kitties, or to us to continue.
The small comfort we have is that he went back to his previous foster parents, who adore him. But a huge part of my heart and soul has been ripped out of me.
These pictures cover our first meeting to his last morning here (yesterday morning). The last photo is his "luggage" we were sending with him. He arrived with his collar, leash, and a peanut butter treat bar; he left with food, treats, clothes, toys, and a whole bag of peanut butter treat bars. Not to mention our hearts and souls.
We will ALWAYS love you, Angus Podgorny Clancy, and you'll always be our sweet boy. I'm sorry all of the wonderful and joyful things about you in our lives was undone by your only real fault. I hope you find a family who will love you beyond reason like us, in a wonderful, cat-free home. God bless both you and your foster parents, who immediately were ready to take you home again, who absolutely love you, and will not let anyone but good people adopt you again.
I truly believe we did the right thing, but oh how it hurts.
My last photo of him - yesterday morning after a walk.
His luggage. Not shown: our hearts, which cannot be placed into bags, but that we hope he knows are always his. I am counting on Duggie and Hamlet to watch over him for us.
I am at a loss, since having Angus really gave strucure and extra joy to my days. As you all know, dogs are different companions than cats are. And Angus was my shadow, my walking companion, and my partner in crime.
One of the best things about our neighborhood has always been the amount of dogs in it. Being out and seeing them with their people, sometimes getting to pet them, and generally just watching how happy they were to be going along, makes you smile. But I have to say today, and for a while going forward, that's also going to be one of the most tortuous things about our neighborhood.
And yes, I know that I'll be OK, that I'll get used to it even though I won't get over it. I know that, because of an entire lifetime of experiencing heartbreaking loss. I know he is being loved and adored with his foster parents, and that they will not allow him to go to any family but a good one.
I got dressed and took a walk this morning and it was agony, even though it's a lovely day. But right now, and for a while, it just sucks too much to bear.
Anyway, now you know. I'm turning off comments for this post, because I know how all of you will commiserate with me and offer your love and prayers, and that is appreciated more than you know. But right now, I am 100 percent certain that I couldn't handle reading them, much less responding. I'm hoping you will understand.
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I will be posting tomorrow, because as is often the case, with the worst news also comes reasons to smile. So I'll talk to all of you again then.
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