Rocky has returned to his friends at the Doggie Day Care. Or, to take a little more responsibility, I returned Rocky to his friends at the Doggie Day Care. We weren't ready, a fact that Ben tried his hardest to help me understand, but I refused to believe. What's more, we're pretty certain Rocky was not the right dog for us. He seems to be a dog who needs other canine friends, plus a trainer more skilled than a pair of softies who've seen a few episodes of the Dog Whisperer. I feel selfish right now, but this selfish act is an attempt to right my first selfish act. Steamrolling the universe and one's husband is no way to adopt a pet.
I miss Deacon like mad, and Ben does too. Until that grief is duller, bringing another puppy into the picture is just going to be an ill-fated attempt at replacement. We need the medicine of time, no matter how bitter it tastes.