Kittens and puppies oh my.
I am a rescuer of all things fuzzy. And sometimes it bites me in the rear. We’ve had a few constants, our doxie Ash has been with us four years and Felix the cat has lasted two. But the majority of animals that come through our house last less than a year. I’m a terrible person. Every time my heart overrides my brain and despite knowing that an animal isn’t a good fit for us, I still do my best to rescue it. I’s happened more times than I’d like to admit. And it’s happening now.
A few weeks ago we found a dog in our yard. We tried to find it’s owner but it had clearly been a stray for a while. So of course I took him in. He was sweet. He was really timid. Two weeks later, he wants to eat the cat. And Felix is the only cat that I’ve ever really liked. Felix is my cat. And I’m his person. So there is no way I’m letting the puppy eat him. So again I’m looking for a home for a puppy that we thought we could handle, and we can’t. It’s one of those times were I really examine my faults. Because it is a fault. My big heart for all things fuzzy and cute has turned me into a person who doesn’t do at all what she wants to. I wanted to save the puppy, but now I’m trying to find him a new home, because despite the want to save him, to love him, to add him to our family, it’s just not a good fit. And even that makes me sound callous and like a giant butthead. But it’s true. Family is a lot about fit. In a small house with four people, one dog, and one cat, fit is hugely important. I tend to forget that when big brown eyes stare up at me.
So it’s with a heavy heart I admit that I need to stop trying to rescue. Maybe our allotment is just Ash and Felix. Maybe I need to accept that. It’s hard though. It makes me want to whine and stamp my foot, but I’ll be strong. I’ll accept my faults and hopefully learn from them. Sometimes being an adult sucks.
*featured image is my Ash and Felix