Luckystott

2005-05-20 - 10:20 p.m.

I am writing this on two hours of sleep from last night. Today, I worked for 10 hours and before coming home to my emotional new role as babysitter/potential mother to a lovely black lab mix...who will be leaving me tomorrow. Sadly, my choice, not his.

My friends found "Mac" at a dog run - starving and abandoned. They kept him for two and a half weeks while trying to find his "people". The "people" never claimed him. Since they already have one large dog, they've been allowing Mac to sleep at their apartment at night. However, he has to stay at the vet's kennel during the day because two big dogs in a one bedroom apartment = disaster area.

This routine is expensive. Since Fred and I have flirted with the idea of getting a pet, they emailed us a picture with a consider plea for taking Mac in. Well, he looked adorable in the picture...

...he also looked about 25 pounds smaller.

I felt really tense in my belly as we turned the corner to their apartment building. I usually listen to my instincts, but this time I pushed it down. I chalked it up as nerves because I really wanted it to happen. I really wanted a happy ending.

When I opened the door, this GIANT labrador put his paws on my shoulders.

"Oh my gawd, you're HUGE!"

But he is so docile...and so homeless.

So...pityful.

So I took him home.

And I got a total of 2 hours of sleep because you know how some people love to have their dogs pile on top of them in bed? I found out I am not one of those people.

And you know how some apartment dwellers HATE noise? My neighbors are those people.

This thing about Mac is that, being abandon and probably abused, he is a wee bit needy. He's a dream when you are just hanging out at home. So quiet and calm. You think to yourself "Hey, I can handle this."

Except then? In the 24 hours I have had him? He has never been more than three paces behind me. He is constantly under foot -- desperate to make sure I see him. If I get up to put a dish in the sink, or take my contacts out, or hang up a jacket, he's compelled to get up from his cozy little spot on the floor to supervise. Also, sudden sounds make him jump. A chair scooting on the floor? He jumps. My cell phone ringing? He jumps. Putting plates away? Furrowed brow and...jumps. He's so cute and I want to save him...but I totally can't. I am not the one. And that sucks.

I knew it for sure when I came home from work today. I heard the loud, consistent barking from about 50 yards away from my building and I thought, "Crap! That's my dog!"

Then I opened the door to my apartment and thought "Gah! Tplace smells like dog!"

And then I thought, "Oh yeah. That's right. I have a dog."

And I wasn't thrilled by that. I should be thrilled if I am going to put myself into the role of savior, right? Because it ain't easy, doing the martyr thing.

The straw that broke the camel's back is the separation anxiety. He is distraught to be left alone. I had an event to go to in the evening, for example. After a good long walk with Mac, I closed the doors so that he had just the kitchen and hallway to play in. I put on the radio, put out his blanket and toys, gave him a little bone to chew on and snuck out.

Fifteen seconds later as I am waiting for the elevator?

The barking. Oh my God, the BARKING.

So I didn't go to the event. I stayed home and placed many phone calls to dog-loving friends who intitially tried to coach me...but then totally called me out on my sh*t: I like the IDEA of having a dog, not the actual dog HAVING.

My friends are coming to pick him up tomorrow morning. I feel guilty admitting it, but I am relieved.

And I feel like my friends are going to drop me because they sounded really mad at me. They were like, "Can't you just BOND with him for a few days?" and I'm like, "No. I will get kicked out of my apartment if I keep this barkalicious, 20-pounds-over-the-contract-limit dog. I mean, he's cute. But I live in a pre-war building that was internally reconfigured in the 70's. I can't even play ball with him in my living room becuase guess what? My floor is also my neighbor's CEILING."

Besides, I don't want him to start lovin' on me and then go through the abandonment again.

Mac needs a yard. And a buddy. He needs someone who doesn't go out as much as me. Or maybe he needs someone willing to not go out until he's weened from his issues. I am doing the whole marriage thing right now and what was I thinking, trying to put a DOG and a HUSBAND into my life at the same time?

I'll not be a potential dog owner again for a very long time. I feel just awful for not being able to make this work.

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