Jess and Michael's Window

I never in my life planned on being one of those people that got rid of the dog after the baby was born.  In fact, before I had a kid, I looked upon those people with such distaste…never wanting to hear what I thought were lame excuses.  Except in cases of extreme aggression, I could just never stomach why anyone could dream of packing off their pup as soon as the baby was born.  And yet, here I am, facing the fact that Kite will never again be as happy in our house with us as she was before Evan came and turned her life upside down.  We have to find her a new home and I’ve been an emotional wreck ever since I came to this conclusion.

I adopted Kite in Oregon as a retired racer who never really raced when she was just two years old.  I was dying to have a dog after I moved there in 2003 and found Kite before I even found a place to live.  But I have to admit she was an impulse on my part and if I’d done my research I may have chosen a different breed other than a greyhound.  I didn’t have a clue what I was getting into and the entire first year I had her I thought it was a huge mistake.  She was a mess.  She was afraid of everything from other dogs to slippery floors to woolybear caterpillars (though it was kind of funny to watch an 80lb dog walk a 20ft circle around one to avoid it) and even was aggressive, growling at me and my friends whenever we approached her on the ground.  But all my new greyhound friends (who’s dogs were so friendly and outgoing) told me to hang in there, that their dogs were the same way at first, and she would come around.

So I did (hang in there) and she did (become my best friend).  My constant companion, I took this dog everywhere I went (even to work while in Oregon… she hung out in the car and played with us on our lunch breaks).  She was even amazing off leash, which is not common for greyhounds, and went hiking with me all over the place.  But, she never got over some of her greyhound-isms and one of those things is her timidity around children.  In my heart, I feared this day would come early on, but I just hoped that she could get used to her own kid when the time came.

After nearly seven years of being my orbiting satellite, that time has come.  Kite has gotten better with kids and seems to know that it is our job to protect her from them so that she doesn’t do the job, but I just know I can never completely trust her.  She growled at Evan once and I put the fear of God (aka me) into her when it happened, but that was before he got mobile and I have no idea what she’d do if he ever pounced on her.  My guess is that she would just jump up and scream her drama-queen scream and at the most, Evan would be tossed across the room and perhaps have the bejeezus scared out of him.  But I don’t know for sure.

So ever since he’s been on the move, we have had to keep them separated, which means for her that I, her God, her planet, her one true love, is always behind a fence.  As a result, she has quickly turned into the most depressed and mopey animal I have ever seen that hasn’t been physically abused.  For her, this is emotional abuse.  She just doesn’t understand why, now that this little person is living in our house, she can’t be with us anymore and she has grown so despondent that she doesn’t always get up to greet us when we come home.  How heartbreaking is that?

Kite is, and will always be, my first baby.  If ever there was a dog to be the perfect training wheel for a kid, she’s it.  I had to deal with pee, poop and vomit all over the car, all over the house, everywhere.  She has sleep incontinence, food intolerances and irrational neuroses, kind of like a toddler, right?  I didn’t care, I loved her, and before Evan, I had all the time in the world to deal with her problems.  But I’ve noticed changes in myself lately.  And these changes are so contradictory to everything I ever thought I was that it makes me sick to my stomach.  Here I am, the ultimate animal lover… or so I thought.  Having a baby has brought out a side of me I never knew was there… the side that puts people first and animals second… that once treated the dog as the baby, but now treats her as the dog.  The side that made me hate the owners in Lady and the Tramp when I was a kid now has sympathy for them.  I can’t believe the guilt I feel over this change, I really, truly hate it.  It is a constant plague.

But what can I do?  The older Evan gets, the more patience I need to save for him and the less I have for Kite.  Poor Kite, who has never been yelled at (except for any signs of aggression) has suddenly found her Mommy to have the shortest of fuses.  I even slapped her on the butt one time when she wouldn’t listen to me, which I know caused her huge emotional pain (greyhounds are extremely sensitive to physical abuse and cannot tolerate it… even a harsh word causes many to cower).  After this incidence, I knew something had to change.  It occurred to me that the way things are, are the way things will be for the rest of Kite’s life.  If we are lucky with our family, we will have a toddler in the house for the next 6 or 7 years maybe.  Is it really fair to subject Kite to that kind of life when she can’t understand why it has to be that way?  I decided it’s not.  She deserves better than that.

And what about us?  Is it fair to Evan to have such an enticing animal in the house that he is not allowed to play with?  To grow up learning that dogs are something to be feared, or that they are fragile and sensitive creatures?  How do I explain to him that it’s fine to wrestle with his nana and papaw’s dog but not his own? Is it fair to us to have to constantly protect them from each other and worry about it all the time?

If Kite were more outwardly aggressive, of course this would be a ton easier.  If she were more predictable, more like a dog and less like a cat, it would be a ton easier.  In fact, Tuna, our cat, is more like the tolerant dog Evan needs than Kite!  I just feel so horrible.  I made a promise to Kite and myself when I got her, that no matter what I would be her forever home.  Breaking this promise is really hard.  I am really sad and I wish it could be different.  I’m trying to tell myself, that is life.  You cry about it, then you make the best choice you can and hopefully everyone is happier in the end.

So what happens to Kite?  Well, I’ve contacted the local greyhound club and without hesitation or judgement (in fact they did their best to convince me I’m doing the right thing), they’ve agreed to place Kite in a foster home until she finds a new home.  I worry that no one will want to adopt such and old dog and all her attached problems, but they tell me they have great luck with special needs dogs.  Anyway she will not have to go to a kennel, and more than likely there will be other greyhounds to play with.  She will love that.  They tell me she will not mourn me like I think she will.  I hope that is true. 

We won’t be getting any more dogs until everyone in this house is out of diapers.  Tuna is a good enough dog for Evan till then.  Thanks for listening and I apologize to all those who came before me for my secret (or outwardly expressed) bad voodoo vibes.  I now understand the pain you went through.  And thank you to my dear husband for listening to me blubber in all hours of the night and for letting me come to this conclusion on my own… he never once suggested that the answer to all of our pain and frustration was to “get rid” of Kite (though I’m sure he must’ve though it).