The tears have started.
Talos is oblivious to the changes heading his way.
This is the worst part of raising a service dog. The goodbye. It would be less painful to rip my heart out and jump up and down on it.
As soon as I got the news, my mind was racing trying to figure a way to keep him just a few months longer. Maybe I could keep the new puppy AND Talos until September. Maybe they could find someone else to raise the new puppy so I could hold onto Talos longer.
Finally, my maddeningly logical husband told me I was just making it worse by dragging it out that way. That I should rip the bandage quickly, not prolong my agony. Just let him go, he said.
Easier said than done.
I hope there aren't too many typos - I can't see the screen for all the tears at the moment. Give me a few days, I'll put on my big-girl pants and will recover. Slightly. I hope.
I always wonder what the dog thinks when so much changes. Does he wonder where we are? Does he think we abandoned him? Will he be happy? How will they know exactly what each grunt or sigh or woof means? Will they know to rub him under his chin? Will they be able to help him if he's startled? Will they appreciate him putting their head in his mouth (I happen to love it).
Oh dear. This is going to be a rough day.
