This is rough

Hey friends,
it's been a while, I know. I would love to update (the zero people who actually read this) about my life, but at the moment I just need to get some big feelings out, and this is the best way I know how. So, here goes.


Almost 5 years ago we lost our dog Cash. It was a nightmare beyond belief, and easily the most horrible time in my life. I had days where I was convinced I would never be genuinely happy again. And then I met Batman at a rescue event. The second I saw him, there was just this instant bond between us. He rode in my lap all the way home, and from that moment forward, he was mine.

We all noticed immediately that Batman preferred me over everyone else. He would growl when Rob came too close to me, or tried to get into bed when I was in there. Those cute little quirks kind of made me laugh at first. But, they evolved slightly over the months. We noticed that Batman really had an issue with Rob. Suddenly Rob and I could barely speak to one another without Batman getting upset, we had to stop letting him sleep in our bed because every time anyone tried to get into the bed Batman would snap at them if I was already in bed. We decided some basic training would be a good idea for Batman and for us. So, Rob and I worked with a trainer in not just basic obedience, but also in teaching us how to be leaders and Batman to look to us for guidance. We worked diligently with Batman and we were making some progress.

Batman had always been an anxious dog, he had very bad separation anxiety and couldn't be left alone because he would destroy the house. He was still figuring things out and I was more than happy to stick by him while he did that. I felt such a connection to this dog, I can't even explain it. I worked so hard, trying to help him become less anxious and trying to help him connect to the rest of the family.

In 2016 we moved. Now, we really didn't notice Batman behaving like he was any more anxious than he already was. At least, not at first. It started slowly. We noticed that he had a hard time relaxing. He would pace the floor, and when he did finally lie down, he would immediately get back up and pace some more. He really had an issue with most men. Rob's uncle was doing some renovations on our house and I came down the stairs with Batman and Rob's uncle had his back turned to us and Batman reacted immediately and bit him on the back of his leg. I was horrified. He had his issues, yes. But, I never thought he would bite anyone. This was when I first started defending my dog. He was still adjusting, we don't know what he went through before we found him, we don't know his parents and genetics, his breed is notorious for this...That weekend I called a trainer. An incredibly expensive, like $$$$ expensive trainer. She came out and did an initial assessment. She assured us he wasn't aggressive, just fearful. He felt like he had to protect me and I was not the confident leader I needed to be to lead him. He saw my weakness and felt like he had to be my bodyguard in a sense.

The trainer worked with him, as did we. We saw some progress, the tools that we were given were useful and we were doing the work, even having the trainer come back out for check ins. We felt like we were doing what we needed to do. But, things still weren't great. Batman had a real reaction whenever the boys were playing too loudly, or were roughhousing, or simply ran past Batman. I would spend a lot of my time correcting Batman and trying to have the boys playing outside or in their room with the door closed. 2 summers ago we were on vacation at my mother in law's cottage. The boys were playing inside and Joel just happened to run past Batman. Batman jumped up and bit Joel. It was so quick, we almost didn't even know what happened. It was bad. There were two bite holes in Joel's shirt and the bite was nasty. Not bad enough to need stitches, but it left a scar. Rob told me that second that he was done. We had done the work, but now Batman had bitten one of our children, unprovoked. He had to go. I sobbed uncontrollably. I was against giving him up. He was my dog, he didn't mean to hurt him. He was anxious and reacted out of fear, not aggression. But, Rob was firm. I emailed the rescue that we had gotten him from as it says in the contract that we were to return him to them if w couldn't keep him. Well, knowing his history and that he had bitten multiple people, one being a child, the rescue said "sorry". So, I told Rob I would contact every rescue from here to Ottawa. I would find someplace to take him.

Flash forward to this year. Batman has bitten Joel, unprovoked, 3 times. Every time Joel was either walking/running past, being too loud, or just generally being a kid. He has bitten Logan once, bitten Ciena twice. He has bitten Rob too many times to count. Probably 6 or 7. He has bitten Rob's uncle, he has bitten my mother in law. The only person close to him whom he hasn't bitten or ever attempted to bite is me. I finally reached the point where I can see what this is doing to my family, my children, my marriage. Rob wanted everything regarding the dog to be my decision. He told me that he didn't want to make the decision and have me resent him forever because of it. But, this issue has harmed my marriage. Rob would try to get through to me and tell me that as much as we all love this dog, it's not safe or responsible for us to have him around our kids, and I would fight him. I would tell him that it's not Batman's fault, which I still don't believe it is. I would tell him that I wasn't going to just give up on him. I would tell him any number of things until he finally relented and just gave up. I would watch my husband and children leave for week long vacations while I stayed home, because Batman was too anxious and unpredictable to board. If I left Batman home with Rob and went away for he night, or more, Rob would tell me that Batman layed by the door the whole time I was gone, not wanting anything to do with him. I love this dog so much, but in the end I knew I needed to do what was right for him, and us.

I honestly thought that I would be making an appt to have him put down. I was doing the humane thing. No rescues, no person wanted to take on a dog who had a bite history and I knew the humane society would just put him down anyway, and I didn't want him surrounded by strangers. But, then I received an offer from someone. She offered to take my dog on and work with him while she tried to find him a suitable foster home. I was blown away. She knew all the ugly details and she was still willing to give it a shot. I agreed, with the understanding that if it didn't work out, or she couldn't keep him for any reason, she would turn him back over to me.

So, this past weekend, a car pulled up and I walked my dog, my friend, my baby, out of our home, and unwillingly placed him into a strangers car and watched them drive away from us. Rob and I both just stood in the doorway and sobbed. I felt, and still feel immense guilt. I am worried he feels like I abandoned him, I'm worried he's sad and wondering when I'm coming back to get him. I'm worried that he's confused and wondering if he's being punished. I spend a lot of my alone time crying and wondering how long it will take to feel okay about this situation. I'm doing the right thing for him, but I am feeling so much pain and grief, it's insane. I just hope with everything I have that he can find happiness and peace that he wasn't able to find here with us. All I've ever wanted for him was peace, so I hope he's able to have that, even if it takes him a little while to adjust and start to feel comfortable. The decision to let him go was not a decision I made lightly. It literally took me years to get to this place, and I'm still not 100% at peace with my decision. At my lowest I thought about moving out with Batman and allowing everyone in my home to be able to relax. Although I know that my anxiety and depression played a part in that because never in a million years would I want to be apart from my kids, but my desperation to save this dog was at the forefront of my mind for a long time.

I'm sharing this mostly just to get it out and hopefully be able to start dealing with it. But, maybe also because I want people to know the whole story before judging. This was not the ending I wanted for Batman and I, but I hope it's a new beginning for him.

Bitter? No, not me.

Hey, friends. Long time no see. School and well, life, are really kicking my ass right now. But, I had a lot of feelings this morning that I need to get out. So, here I am.

Anyone who knows me, knows that I am EXTREMELY close to my family. Family is the most important thing in my life. With that being said, like most people, I have some family that are not so great. People that are possibly toxic, or maybe they are narcissistic, or maybe they're a combination of all of those things. Or, maybe, like in my case, you're not even sure how to label them, because you don't know them at all. And the things you do know, aren't great.

The day I was born, my dad called his father to share the good news. Now, obviously, the birth of a baby, the first grandchild especially, is a really joyous occasion. But, this was even more than that. I was born on my paternal Grandfather's birthday. How amazing for my dad to be able to tell his father that he shared a birthday with his first grandchild! Well, the response that my father got was crushing. "You have your life and I have mine. You live your life and I'll live mine." My father was gutted. I mean, I was a newborn, so I didn't witness this, but I can imagine. That is where my relationship with my "Grandfather" begins and ends.

Growing up, my father didn't really see eye to eye with his father. I'm sure many of us can relate to that, myself included. But, the difference is, when my father was 17 years old, still a child, he left his father's home for good. I don't know all the details of what transpired before this, so I won't even speak on it, but I'm sure it hurt everyone involved. Eventually my dad's two brothers followed suit, and left as well. Now, I have two sons, and I also have a brother, and male cousins who I watched navigate the teenage years. It wasn't always pleasant, I do know that. Stolen vehicle, drunken shenanigans, screaming and breaking every rule imaginable. But through it all, these boys were loved. They were cared for, and knew they always had a place to go, with people who loved them.

The only time I have ever laid eyes on my "Grandfather" was at a funeral when I was 10. I watched my dad walk up to him, and look him in the eyes and say "Dad" and his father nodded his head and said "Rob" That's it! Could you imagine not seeing your child for over 10 years, and finally they are in front of you, and all you can manage is a nod of the head?! The rage I felt at 10 years old in that moment, has stayed with me for 25 years. And, if I'm being honest, it has only intensified since I started having children of my own. I can't imagine any situation...ever, that would result in me never talking to one, or more of my children for any length of time. And I certainly couldn't imagine holding a grudge and anger at them for something that they may have done as a teenager. That seems crazy to me. And really fucking sad.

I am admittedly an angry person. I carry anger for many things that happened to, and around me from the time I was a young child, up until 3 weeks ago. (sorrynotsorry) I go through spurts where things get into my head, and take up residence for extended periods of time. And, I'm shocked at the amount of hurt and anger I feel for a situation that didn't really involve me (until the day of my birth) for someone who I've never even met. I'm working on it, and my hope is that one day I won't feel it quite as deep. But, then I think about my Grandma Sharon. She is my dad's mom, and was married to his father. She struggled her entire married life. Struggled with addiction, struggled with mental illness, struggled with a husband who wasn't good to her. And she got the blow back for all of it. She was painted as a villain, someone who couldn't take care of her children, which at certain times was probably true. But, she didn't have any support, and she did her best with what she had at the time. And at the end of the day, she loved her children fiercely. I know that I'm biased because she was my favourite person and I loved her, and I don't know and have never known my father's dad. The thought that she isn't here, knowing how much she loved her children, and how much she would have enjoyed seeing her grandchildren and great grandchildren grow up, but can't. Knowing that there is a man out there who has and has had the ability and option to be a part of his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren's lives, and has chosen not to. Yep. Anger. White hot.

Before anyone gets the wrong idea, I have no desire to see this man now, I have no desire for my children to know him. My kids have amazing grandparents who love them and always look forward to seeing them. And, it's very possible that a great portion of this is incoherent rambling. I apologize, I had to reschedule my therapist appt, so I'm getting it all out here, I guess.

I see how my dad is with my kids, and I know that through everything he has been through, he's not repeating any part of he and his dad's story. My father and I never got along when I was growing up, but my dad has never turned his back on me. My dad has been nothing but supportive and happy for my brother and I with any and all accomplishments. My dad loves his kids and his grand kids. I can't presume to know how my father feels about his father and the situation now. And it's possible he would tell me "Get over it." and I truly hope that one day I'm able to. But, today is not that day.