The story goes like this: our new wonderful downstairs neighbor Stephanie moved in about a month ago and, as what typically happens with moves, family members were in and out helping the cause and I met Stephanie's mom Shirley a few times in the process. Each time Tate went right up to her and she commented on how cute she thought he was. When "the incident" happened a week and a half ago, I started to put the word out that we were looking for a new home for him. Stephanie said, "This might be crazy, but my mom LOVES him, I am going to talk to her to see if she'd be interested in taking him. She's been looking for the right little dog to come along." Her mom and her sister actually live together in Ashland, about 40 minutes west of Belmont, and they came last Thursday to take Tate for a test drive ("walk") with Stephanie and her sweet big black lab Duncan to make sure they got along. About 15 minutes later they were back and Shirley said, "Well I think this is going to work out just fine." At which point I burst into tears, out of equal parts relief and heartbreak. She gave me a big hug and I was so upset that eventually Stephanie and her sister (also Kristin) were crying as well. I think most dog owners can't even begin to put themselves in my place and Stephanie especially really felt for me.
So we agreed that I would get Tate's paperwork together, vaccination history, etc. and his belongings and they would come pick him up Saturday morning. Saturday came and we took one final family picture and walk around the block on the first gray day we had had in a week.
Shirley and Kristin came around 10:30 am, had blankets all set up in the backseat for him, and gave us big hugs. I think the part that has made me feel the best in this whole process, besides knowing that Tate is in a great home, is that they both knew how hard this was for us and were so sensitive to that. I have no doubt that Tate has two new people to love and is being showered with treats and spoiled rotten. Later that day I got a picture from Kristin saying that Tate had already found his chair and had settled in:
This whole thing sucks and I feel like it happened so fast. One day we were all fine and then the next, Tate had bitten Ashton (or whatever the correct syntax is on that sentence) and there was the emergency room, stitches, antibiotics, and the search for a home for Tate and then he was just gone, in a snap. This month, I started a new job, Jason started a new job, we put our condo up for sale and are househunting, trying to juggle Ashton's new schedule with Chera and thought we had it under control until this happened. It's been quite the September for the Nills so far.
One last thing I'd like to say and that is as much as we love(d) Tate, that he was a part of our family and I still can't believe he is gone, protecting Ashton became a greater priority. Please reserve your judgment on our decision if you have any - I think you'd be hard-pressed to find a family that kept their dog after it attacked their baby. Yes there are behavioral training options but even with that, dogs are still animals and can be unpredictable. We just couldn't bear the idea of this happening again and we never wanted to have to gate Tate off from the rest of the family while Ashton (or any future children) played. He deserves more than that and we do too.
And so, we've said goodbye to our beloved dog, who was certainly not perfect but no human is either. We loved him tremendously and the hole in our hearts is so big. We miss him, and I'm having too hard a time continuing right now so that's the end of this post.
I am crying for you. I dont even know Tate or even have a dog of my own but you did the right thing. I would have done the same thing you did....
ReplyDeleteSounds like you need a vacation.
JP