As they often say, all good things must come to an end. Thus is the same with a member of our family; George the dog. Today I got a text from Jeremy “my sister took George,” followed by an empty photo of where his cage used to sit. I can’t lie that a small part of me was so happy.
George and I have not gotten along. He has taken major issue with me, and whatever that issue is, it’s one sided. He often growls at me, snaps at me, causes a scene, runs away from me, and sometimes even bites me. It’s a constant uphill battle with George. Since I’ve moved in, I’ve been bitten several times. I finally said enough was enough. My finger has a brand new scar on it from him, and coming home to a dog that is constantly trying to eat my face was getting old. I finally told Jeremy he had to go.
Jeremy called his mom and asked her to take him. She likes dogs, and has one of her own. Plus, Jeremy’s youngest sister is crazy about George, so we knew he’d go to a good place. But I was expecting George to be leaving at the end of this month. Jeremy’s mom said she was going to be coming down to the area at the end of October, and would pick him up then. I was rather shocked to get that text today; it was totally out of the blue.
Jeremy is really upset. He loves George. I hated to be the one to tear them apart, but I’m not going to live with an animal like that. George has never bitten anyone else, just me. He has snapped at Jeremy before. It concerns me greatly. If it’s someone else he does it to, it could be really dangerous. But I know how Jeremy is feeling. And I feel terrible that he is so upset. I feel responsible for tearing them apart. I only hope that someday Jeremy doesn’t resent me for it.
However, George the dog is not dead. He is simply living in the city of Chicago now with Jeremy’s middle sister. She has expressed she’d like to keep him, so if luck would have it, he may end up staying very close. And hopefully Jeremy will get to see him often. But, he may end up going up to Michigan, where our visiting commute may be longer. I only hope and pray that George only hated me, and that the other people in Jeremy’s family never meet the same dog I knew.
Our house is quiet tonight. I am hoping, as I sit here enjoying the silence, that if any other dogs come in the future they will only bring happiness and joy to Jeremy and my future. And that George find his own happiness, and his life be a little less terrible without me.