Welp, this week the dogs have to say goodbye to the only dog dad they've ever known. Whether they will actually get the chance to say goodbye is not up to me. For them, it must feel like a doggie parent divorce. And like with every divorce, it is a thin line between using the dogs and wanting what's best for them. I wish I could just fix the weirdness so the dogs and I could both say goodbye. But I just don't know how. Saying I'm sorry is a start, but I'm not even sure I can say that without crying and my tears have been accused of creating guilt in the past. What's a dog mom to do? I have no idea. But this time it seems as though my cure-all dogs don't have the cure after all. What I have been doing is keeping my head down and my pleasantries to a minimum for fear of making dog dad uncomfortable, again.
And I want to make sure it's clear I don't use the word divorce lightly. It is a word that defined my teens and early twenties. A word I wish I had no concept of today. But for the dogs, it signifies they will never have another dog dad. No replacement. Just one person who loved them almost as much as I did. Who took them for walks and runs, took care of them when mom went away, slept with them like mom does, and came bearing gifts at Christmas time. This is a sad week for all of us because it's all over now.