I was on the corner of Glenoaks and Alameda when it happened: I finally broke down. I had held it together on my drive back over the hill with the empty harness on the vacant passenger seat beside me. I was fine while I picked up groceries. I was even okay when I picked out a movie at Redbox in front of 7-Eleven. But as I came to a stop in the left-hand turn lane, I burst into tears sobbing hard, believing I had betrayed my boy.
All I could see in my mind's eye was his face in the window as I waved goodbye outside the apartment building. I was leaving without him. I was never going back. Did he know I was never coming back? And would it be worse if he did know, or better to believe one day I'd walk through that door again?
I had just spent two weeks, every single moment (except for my Thursday evening and Monday afternoon) with him. He had bonded with me, opened up around me. He trusted me. I don't know if dogs know when they're finally "home". Maybe he thought I was it. I usually prep dogs on my transports, let them know what's going on, but I didn't with him. I thought it would be easier. But then it seems like such a greater betrayal, a lie to just appear so flippant about it. Deep down I wasn't flippant. But I couldn't keep him longer. If I only had a house with a yard, I would have. I would have fostered him until he got that special home. Then I wouldn't feel guilty because he would be going to his forever home.
But just to hand him over to another foster because I couldn't keep him? Yes, it was better than boarding. But that face. I kept seeing his face. We really didn't say Goodbye. He certainly didn't, not at all aware that I would walk out the door without him; he just thought I was giving him a hug as I was wont to do throughout the day just because.
Back when I started this transport thing, I couldn't understand how fosters did it. I have such respect and admiration to those who open their hearts and their homes to animals for an undetermined amount of time and then are able to send them on their way to the next portion of their lives. I didn't think my heart would ever be strong enough to foster. Mickey was with me for just short of two full weeks. Lilly had only been 10 days. But honestly, it's not the amount of time but the depth of the connection. You allow that connection, you allow yourself to love in order for the dogs begin to love again. They've been neglected and betrayed by members of our species, and yet when you step up and show them love, eventually they start to trust us again. They accept love from you, and then love from others. Fosters are the faith in humanity. Fosters are the ones that show dogs who might never believe it, that not all of us are so bad.
So I hold that trust as sacred. And all I could think about as I sat there waiting for the light to turn green, tears streaming down my face, was that I had betrayed that trust. I hadn't sent him to boarding. He wasn't alone in a kennel somewhere. He was hanging out with a dude and his dogs. He was probably having fun. But still--I loved him, and then I let him go anyway. My brain knew it was all for the best. But my heart still felt the guilt. It was so strange--I wouldn't have felt it if he had been going on a plane to Canada. I would know he was going to a foster, one step closer to his home, far away where I couldn't help him. But the fact that he was simply ten miles away, with another foster--I had failed.
Logically I hadn't failed. The reason I couldn't send him to boarding all that time was because I had to follow through. I make a promise to each and every dog that no harm will come to them while under my care. That I will never leave them some place bad. He certainly was not in a bad place now. But I couldn't shake the feeling that he might think I had lied all this time, lied about loving him, lied about enjoying his company.
Dogs are forgiving. More so than us, especially when it comes to forgiving ourselves. I guess that's why it's even more of a betrayal. I have to believe Mickey's having a wonderful time. I have to believe he knows in his heart that my love for him was true, and still is true. I've always thought that loving people is a dangerous business. They can hurt you and betray you; but loving a dog is no risk at all. Not until this moment did I realize the obvious flaw in my logic: I may think loving people is too risky, and yet what I try to teach these dogs that come into my life is that people are worth loving, that we're not all going to hurt them and betray them. And loving a dog? Surely it's risky, not because they will ever betray you, but because one day they will leave and your heart will have a void bigger than you can ever imagine. And yet the loving is worth that pain, isn't it?
I hope Mickey forgives me; he might very well have seen no harm or foul at all. I hope he continues to love and trust--Eric, Alexis, his new guardians, whomever they might be. I hope I've helped him to see that not all of us humans will betray him; and I hope he knows that all I felt and did for him was true, not a betrayal at all. My continued love for him is what brings me to write this, to let everyone know he's still looking for a home, and where you can adopt him. Yes, if you've followed along these past couple of weeks, the pictures are indeed familiar.
Tell all you know: Mickey is still in search of his forever friend, the one who will care for him for the rest of his life and who will love him for the rest of theirs. Please help Mickey find that friend, and finally go to that most coveted place: his forever home.
http://www.adoptapet.com/pet3441274.html
http://www.petfinder.com/petnote/displaypet.cgi?petid=15721047
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