what of the mother
whose house is in flames
and both of her children
are in their beds crying
and she loves them both
with the whole of her heart
but she knows she can only
carry one at a time?
she’s choking on the smoke
of unthinkable choices
she is haunted by the voices
of so many desires
she’s bent over from the business
of begging forgiveness
while frantically running around
putting out fires

—ANI DIFRANCO, “School Night”

Yesterday I cried. A lot. More than I’ve cried in well, a month. Because a month ago I cried even more. The sobs lasted longer and were physically harder. Maybe yesterday’s heartache was somehow calmed by a feeling of horrible familiarity.

Let me start from the beginning. Eleven years ago I rescued an 8 week old puppy, whom I named Montay. Montay immediately became my best friend. She was my sidekick and went everywhere with me, including to college. While I wont go into the history of our relationship and our travels throughout the country, just trust me when I say our love ran deep. It still does.

Over six years ago I met the love of my life, Tiffany. Only problem was she already had a love of her life, a Chihuahua dachshund mix named Tellulah. Tell and Tiff were very much a pair, as were Montay and myself. Luckily for all four of us, Tellulah and Montay got along flawlessly and as Tiffany and I began to navigate a life where one became two, our furry friends allowed that equation to really mean that two became four.

About 15 months ago, Tiffany and I became pregnant with whom would become our first child, a beautiful girl named Porter. We knew that our beloved dogs would struggle adjusting to a life with a baby, so we were proactive and hired a dog trainer. We wanted to ensure that we would find a way for all five of us to co-habitate. As I emphatically told the dog trainer, “RE-HOMING THEM IS NOT AN OPTION”.

And then the first piece of a nightmarish puzzle began. Montay snapped at Porter. She did not make contact but she did it purposefully and with intention. She was not happy that a baby was crawling near her and she made that very clear. We had been working hard to keep the baby and dogs as separate as possible, and much credit goes to Tiffany who spends her weekdays home along with the baby. She was constantly redirecting the dogs, moving Porter, doing everything she could (save locking the dogs into one room or keeping them outside—neither of which we EVER did) to keep everyone safe and protected from one another.

We decided to let the first snap slide, but knew to be much more cautious moving forward. We were stricter with where the dogs could be, and they weren’t happy about it. Montay became less predictable, and we could tell she was growing impatient of being told what to do after 11 years of physical and emotional freedom. Tellulah was acting out in other ways, mostly by peeing and pooping on our carpet.

After Montay snapped a second time at Porter, we knew we had to act. The WORST thing I could imagine would be that Montay (or Tell) would bite our daughter, leaving her physically and emotionally scarred, and leaving us with the decision of possibly facing euthanasia. The thought literally makes me sick. The dog trainer insisted that it is no longer IF but WHEN Montay will bite, as she’s now shown twice that she is not comfortable around this now toddler.

Thankfully, my mom was able and willing to take Montay. My mom has known her since the day I brought her home from the pound 11 years ago, and has been an active person in her life. The dogs would always stay at my moms if we went out of town, and sometimes just for fun. Montay spent one summer with her years prior, when I worked at a summer camp. Montay seems incredibly happy to be living with her Gammy; she has more freedom than she has in the past year and gets more treats (she even gets red meat, something she’s only ever had when Gammy is around). I see Montay weekly and although heartbreaking, this arrangement is best for all of us.

The first set of tears I mentioned earlier were shed the day this decision was made. Even though I get to see her as frequently as I want, it still broke my heart. This girl was my best friend for the past 11 years, and I felt like I was giving up on her. And at the same time, I knew it was what was best for all of us. I guess this was the first time in parenthood when I truly had to put my wants behind the needs of my child. And let me tell you, it broke my heart.

Last week Tellulah, now even angrier because her sister is no longer at home, snapped at Porter. She had been acting out for the past month or so, likely related to missing her sister Montay, but her behavior began to worsen and she stopped being the needy, cuddly dog she has always been. She would stay on the floor when we were all on the couch, something very unlike her. After watching her personality all but disappear into a sad doggie depression, coupled with her now being the second of two dogs to try to bite our innocent baby, we decided she needed a new home, too.

I used to judge people who talked about re-homing their pets when baby arrived. I would challenge them, “how could you possibly do that?!”. I would make statements like “I just couldn’t ever do it”. And now I feel so horribly about any time those words left my mouth. I never realized the agony of that type of decision. I just assumed it was selfish because the parents were “over” the dogs. I didn’t realize how this is the type of decision that literally makes every cell in your body ache.

After talking with almost 20 potential interested parties, we found a match for Tellulah. We insisted that there are no children in the house, and that it has to be someone who welcomes a dogs incessant snuggles. Someone who will let the dog sleep with him/her, and will give her the love she’s been so desperate for for over a year. Finally we found our match. Jen, as I will call her, came yesterday to meet Tell, and after spending a good 25 minutes with us and Tellulah, she took her home for a trial period. I insisted that should Tellulah not be a good fit for her, that she bring her back here and that we would either keep her or continue looking. I do not want this dog at a shelter, and will not let it happen. (Last night Jen sent us several pics of Tellulah on the couch, next to her new friend, a 16 year old Shih Tzu. She seemed to be taking the adjustment way better than myself.)

…And once again, just like that, the familiar flow of tears and aching cells began. The water poured out of my eyes and wouldn’t stop. The guilt, the anger at the situation, the sadness, the relief, all of it. The emotional overwhelm was profound, and I still feel the residual exhaustion of it all (and likely will for quite some time).

Tiffany and I still would like to own a dog. We are “dog people” and I personally have never lived longer than 30 days without a dog in my home, from childhood to present-day. It’s possible that at this point others will advise us against it, at least for now. Yes it is true that we have a lot going on, and yes it’s true that we will eventually (like, as in soon-ish) have another baby, but our lives do not feel complete without at least one four-legged friend. Something is missing from our family and the energy in the house has changed.

When I got Montay and Tiffany got Tellulah we were in COMPLETELY different places in our lives. The dogs we rescued were saved without any consideration whatsoever given to having children in the home. It just so happens we both, separately, fell in love with dogs who did not take well to children (the Top Ten Worst Dog Breeds To Have With Children list states it, emphatically, as luck would have it). So yes, we will get another dog, and we will ensure that this breed and individual dog does great with kids from the get-go. We do not want to put ourselves, our child(ren), or our dog through anything like this ever again.

Our hearts remain broken and will for quite some time, and yet this, I fear, is just the beginning of learning to put your child above all else, when necessary. I do not expect anyone without children to understand, as I know I sure didn’t when I was judging others in our shoes. I also do not expect anyone with children who have pets who have lovingly taken to their children to understand, as they were never faced with this unthinkable decision.

As is true of this journey, I feel like there is no good way to end this blog, either. So I will simply re-quote the quote from the beginning of the blog, and allow the words to resonate with you, the same way they have for us over the last month.