Saying goodbye

Do you think long, lingering farewells are more painful than brief ones? Is it better to slowly peel off the band-aid or rip it off?

Last night, we said goodbye to Greg.

I've been struggling for weeks with how to help my son as he has been sick, exhausted and dealing with a dog that can't be with our other dog. Along with a couple other minor chaotic messes in my house, but that's another blog, someday. I left it up to him - it was his decision to make, it was his dog, he'd saved up for a long time and spent quite a bit of time researching dogs and breeds. He loves Greg. I love Greg. Greg is adorable and sweet and so much fun to walk and play with. When Sean came to me two weeks ago and said he couldn't do it anymore, it broke my heart. I want to always fix things, make everything ok for everyone, and I knew he was right. I wanted the peace back in my house and getting back to one dog was the only way. And I can't lose Ezmond, he is love itself for me and is showing me every day not to be afraid of love.

So we posted ads online, made flyers, spread the word. We had a couple people that seemed interested but no takers. Then, last Friday, some family issues came to the surface and the issue of Greg finding a new home became immediate. Dire, even. If it wasn't done by Sunday, he was going to have to go to the shelter. Worse yet, the no-kill shelter he came from was full (as are many right now - the economy is wreaking havoc on more than just pocketbooks. People can't feed and care for their pets... donate, people! Give food, give time, foster a dog...) I was going to have to take him where he may never find a home again. How could I do that?

All day Saturday I was anxious. Really anxious. My heart hurt. I went to the Rose Garden and walked through the Shakespeare Gardens, found a place to sit. I sent some wishes off to the universe. Most of them were silly, but I started off with the big one. Greg needs a home. NOW. And how about a good one? Where he can sit at someone's feet, in their lap, love and be loved?

When I got home, I checked email. There was an email from a very nice sounding person who was looking for a companion dog for her grandfather. She'd seen the ad on kijiji.com. Greg sounded perfect. I emailed back with some more information (most importantly - no other dogs!!) and within an hour, I had a phone call from a nice guy named Travis. Could they get Greg tonight?

It seems his grandfather was very lonely, his dog had died a while ago and his grand kids wanted him to have a companion. You know, to ride in the car with him (picture big, floppy, beagle ears hanging out a car window) and sleep on his bed. Travis was a great guy. I handed Greg off to him, crate and pillow and food and toys and all, in the parking lot of Lloyd Center. He's going to have such a wonderful life. We made that family happy. I spent the drive home picturing little Greg's face as he meets this lonely guy. A guy and his dog...

And my son cried. He couldn't even help us gather Greg's stuff, he was overwhelmed with grief. Because even though he knew in his heart that this was what Greg really needed, he was giving away something that he'd made room for in his heart. He is such a sweet, gentle and kind guy and he suffered a really big loss. I want to wrap my arms around him and help him let it out, like I used to when he was little, but he's almost a man now and I have to let him come to me (damn...)

So back to the question. I got the phone call and we were in the car with Greg in less than 10 minutes. Sean didn't have time to process everything. We hardly did. All the way there I just wished that they would be good people, that I would feel confident handing him over. And it worked out that way. So, maybe it was better for Sean to have it hurt like a band-aid being pulled off. Instead of slowly working through things that hurt, he gets a chance, this time at least, to start healing right away.

I miss you, Greg...