My Break Up

I never really broke up with a girl...okay, technically that's not true. I have never broken up with a girl the correct way. If middle school romances count, I was dumped more than I dumped. My favorite form of the dump--the letter. You've received the letter. I'm sure teenagers do it over Facebook or texting now, but back in my day, you wrote a letter. It was never a good sign when the girl handed you the letter. No eye contact was allowed. Or when their friend brought it. If it she sent a dude with it, you knew you were burnt toast.

In high school, I had only one other girlfriend before my wife. I did something worse than a break up letter to her. Cowardly, I sent some friends over. At least in a break up letter, you penned it yourself. They seemed to delight in the job making me feel even more like a cowardly loser. She was a sweet girl, who deserved better. Maybe by chance if she reads this she'll take it as an apology or my admit to guilt. Maybe she can delight a little.

A few months later I started dating Lacey. The rest is history. We began dating the second semester of our freshmen year. We fell in love pretty quickly and somehow she puts up with me, so I suppose that makes us compatible. We never broke up, not even for a millisecond. I suppose she just couldn't live without me (I'm sexy and I know it...I work out). Birds have always sang Nora Jones for me since Lacey has come into my life. Skies have been blue and everything, including broccoli, is sweeter.

This experience has robbed me of that feeling of a true broken heart.

That is until this weekend.

If you remember last Spring, Lacey surprised me with a puppy in front of 500 people at school (Announcing the Newest Member of Our Family, this blog actually was one of my most read blogs of 2011). She didn't want the puppy, but she knew I did. Daisy quickly became a part of the family. She was an indoor dog, who shed all the time, and grew to be too big, so she became an outdoor dog. You know the story. She slept in her crate in the garage at night, spent the day in the crate, and then ran around all afternoon. It turned cold and she seemed miserable. On top of that, she was lucky to get five minutes of attention a day. I knew she deserved better.

As the old saying goes, "If you love something, sometimes you have to let it go." I knew I had to let her go.

I posted her on Craiglist and people started e-mailing. I loved this dog, so I prayed for the right family. Sound silly to pray for that? All I know is Jesus said that we don't receive because we don't ask, so I thought I would ask. And he answered. There was this awesome family who lived a couple hours away that wanted a boxer. They had another dog, she would be an inside dog, and they have three boys. Daisy would get all the attention she deserved.

Our last day together was tough. I began to separate emotionally from her (I know I sound like a girl) and it hurt too much to be with her. It hurts to even think about it. How do you break up with your dog? I would have written her a letter and had Lacey deliver it too her, but she can't read, so that wouldn't have done her any good. I couldn't send in one of my daughters to do my dirty work and tell her she had to go.

We met the family halfway. The goodbye was bittersweet, but after meeting them there was no doubt that they were answer to prayer. I passed her off not ever really saying goodbye. By the time we got home that evening, the Williamson family e-mailed me to let me know how great Daisy was doing. Because that's what you want to hear when you break up, how much happier they are without you in their life! But honestly, it made me happy.

It stings every time I go to our garage and see her empty crate. Our cat who used to sneak in there, misses her so much that he even leaves the crate empty. The yard is lonely without her running around. Her ball that we played fetch with is still in the yard along with some of the mess she made of my landscaping. I just can't seem to get rid of her stuff. Kind of like keeping old love letters.

Only two people in my family truly like Daisy--me and my three year old daughter, Chloe. The other night Chloe out of the blue asked me, "Daddy, do you miss Daisy?"

Ouch!

 "Yes, I miss Daisy. I miss her terribly. Do you miss her?" I replied with a broken heart.

"Yes, but my leg hurts."

I know that doesn't make any sense and I asked her twice and she replied the same both times. She probably meant her heart hurts, kind of like in some cultures where the stomach or liver are used to described feelings. Or at least that's what I like to think.

I don't know if you can break up with a dog without it being against something found in Leviticus, but I can say that my heart has been broken. I miss Daisy. I miss her companionship. I'll miss our runs. I'll miss her tricks. I'll miss her puppy eyes and the dream she fulfilled within me. But on a rainy day like today, I know our break up made her life better. Her life is better without me keeping her caged up all day.

So there it is. Twenty-eight years old and never had a broken heart, until I had to break up with a boxer named Daisy.

Question:
Ever have to break up with a dog? How did you do it?