The Saddness Continues…

We need some joy… with our little beagle gone (“ballful of kooch”–don't ask me that's the nickname the children gave him, along with “pecan pie”just look at him and you'll know why) since Thursday, things have been quite sad around here.  Ben (the choco lab) is a great dog, but it's just not the same.  He can't curl up on the couch at your feet,and jump up and attack you on the bed, and he doesn't chase his tail–but he also doesn't kill chickens. 


 


We invested so much time and energy and money in Charlie.  Apparently so he could be a good dog for someone else.  When he came he had attachment issues.  Yes, I realize he's a dog, but that's what they said at the animal shelter.  He would Houdini his way out of the kennel and ransack the house when we were gone–tearing down curtains, door trim, ripping apart baskets among with other things.  He also didn't do well riding in the car.  I took him to obedience training classes–each week he would get nervous and slobber all over Shane's car as I drove into the city for classes.  The trip home was better because he was worn out, but every week was the same.  Then one day, we noticed a change.  We had forgotten to kennel him and the house was as we left it when we got back home.  Car rides were fun for him and he wanted to go with us.  We tried everything that we could think of to train him to stay away from the chickens–even a shock collar, but nothing worked.  He did okay if he was supervised, it was when no one was looking that we had to worry about. 


Last night was rough.  The new owners were supposed to call us and let us know how he was doing.  By 8:30 I was doubting that they would keep their word, so I called her.  She said he was doing great.  (not surprised)  I asked her about dropping by the rabies certificate or mailing it.  She opted for us to mail it (even though she had said that we could come visit him sometime)  I don't know if it would even be a wise thing to do, but it would have been nice of her to offer since she had told the children that they could visit him sometime.  After I hung up I started crying, well that got Bubba to crying and we ended up spending the last night before Daddy left mopping around the house.  We had been doing okay until I called– maybe I shouldn't have.  We knew he was doing okay or they would have called us.  They didn't really “need” the rabies certificate. And I guess I really didn't even need to call them. 

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