Muffins leaves home

I have always believed that when our animals come into our lives, that they are there for life. In the weekly ad for the local humane society, often times it will say that this cat or dog was surrendered because the owners were moving and couldn’t take the pet with them or that they could no longer afford to keep them. I always wonder how anyone could do that, yet that is what I did to my kids’ dog.

Muffins was a mutt, but her predominant breed was certainly German Shepard, which made her very protective of her people. When my first husband moved out when she was not quite two years old, she felt it was her responsibility to keep me and my two kids safe. When Muffins was outside, strangers wouldn’t get out of their vehicles in our yard. She would not only bark and growl at them, she would bark threateningly at anyone walking down the road.

 

If the kids were out playing in the yard, Muffins stayed close to them. But if she went out alone and wasn’t securely tied to something, off she would run. With his 80-year-old mother in the passenger seat, the town constable pulled his ancient pickup into my driveway a few times and threatened to fine me if the neighbors complained again. Lucky for me George never wrote me a ticket. Not so lucky for Muffins though.

One Saturday in June 1995, I drove her to the humane society and left her there. Of all the things I’ve done in my life, right or wrong, that was the hardest. I have no justification for what I did. I was a single mom, raising two kids and I didn’t need to deal with a dog that I couldn’t handle.

When I get really stressed out, I go cross-eyed (a big secret of mine). On the way home that day, with dog hair in the car and a squeak toy still on the floor, I could barely drive my eyes were so crossed.

I've wondered many times what happened to my dog. I pray she found a good home on a farm somewhere where she could run and run and come home at the end of the day to a houseful of kids she could be devoted to.