This past weekend I made a sad discovery--my family is not ready for a dog--especially an adorable oh so sweet puggle. We had our Bella Brees for about 72 hours--72 eye opening hours. It wasn't the "potty training" (been there done that), it wasn't that she was a puppy (obedience school was already lined up as well as a trip to the vet and groomers). I sat her down and told her "It's not you, it's me." I simply did not want to commit to a lifetime of taking care of a pet--that sounds so harsh but, I'm just being honest. I already have two human "cubs" plus a husband and some days they are not completely taken care (a pile of laundry waiting to be folded stares me down as I type this). SO, with a huge lump in my throat and tears welling up in my eyes I drove Bella to Mike. I told him he had to take her back--I couldn't handle it. Carson and I held each other and cried as our Bella walked to the car. Those big sad eyes made it so hard not to change our minds. There is still a little void in our home and my heart yet I know it is all for the best--hers and ours.
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