Last week I put an ad in the paper on post about Pepper. Of course, we decided after a couple of days of non-stop crying to keep her. Apparently they didn't get the message to cancel the ad because at 7:06 am, I got my first of about thirty calls this morning about her.
The first guy I flat out lied to because, well I was asleep and then shocked that someone was calling. Yeah... V turned over and said, we could still find a good home for her. I knew in my heart that he wasn't just joking even though he followed it up with "just kidding, don't start crying."
Then I dragged my butt out of bed to let the dogs out. Sitting on the patio, I started thinking that maybe this was just meant to be. Maybe this was the kick in the butt I needed to make an adult decision. So tearfully, I told V about what I was thinking. He agreed. Eventually, he thought, this is what would happen anyway.
So I made him do the dirty work by vetting people out on the phone. Before I could change my mind, we found someone. A military family retiring here wanted her. Four kids. Four-five acres of land. It seems like there would be enough money and love to take care of her in the manner I see fit. (Yes, I'm a little bit of a mother bear about where my precious dog would be going to.)
They came and saw her. Loved her. So we drove her up to the vet clinic on post to get the records officially changed. V and I both cried the whole way up. V doesn't cry. In our life together I have only seen him cry two times: when his dad died, and when I surprised him at the welcome home ceremony after his Afghanistan deployment.
Today I add a third time.
In the end, this is for the best. I know that, but my heart definitely doesn't. We're going to work off our unhappiness now by painting the kitchen.
I love my Pepper always. xoxo