A Trip To The Farm...

I actually thought that I found a home for my dogs yesterday. I was chatting with my oldest son and he reminded me that he'd take the dogs. "OH!" I thought, "that would work out great!" I can quit worrying myself bald over these stupid mutts... then he completed his sentence. He said, "I'll keep them until I have time to make a trip to the farm."

It sounds rather idyllic. Like he was going to take them out to the country where they could run free and chase cows. This is actually 'man-speak' for shooting them. My son has offered to take my dogs out to the country, shoot them, and bury the evidence.

I wish I wasn't actually considering it.

A run in the country, followed by a quick bullet to the skull might be a better ending to my good dogs than dropping them off at a no-kill shelter. If I drop them off to a rescue league, their chances of being adopted is so slim. Chip is old and cranky. Sophie is obsessive compulsive. They are not going to be endearing to folks looking for a puppy for their kids. Chip and Sophie, between the two of them, are just barely a watch dog now. They have to work as a team to even put a scare into delivery men.

I'm beginning to think, not only about the quantity of their lives, but of the quality. If I know that they are low possibility adoptions, wouldn't putting them out of my misery be a better thing to do for them?

In case you don't see it in my narrative, I am not an animal lover. I wouldn't even be considering no-kill shelters (I didn't even give them a thought) until a reader here sent me a link to a bunch in the area. I would have dropped them off at the humane society and let them take their chances. Even though I know their chances of a quick adoption are very slim.

If they were easily adoptable dogs, one of the readers of this blog would have offered to take them...

Giving them a trip to the country, followed by eternal peace, is beginning to sound like the most humane thing to do for them.

--Sandee Wagner