I had a meltdown last sunday night. Brenda and Porter got in a fight over Ben again. This time Porter punctured Brenda's head above her eye. She had the muzzle on so Porter wasn't hurt. It happened quickly. Then I started crying and didn't stop until Monday night. I hit the breaking point and realized that I couldn't handle living with Brenda anymore.
That entire next day I walked around in a daze trying to come to terms with why I was feeling so badly about the situation. Trying to figure out why I am so desperate to stick it out with Brenda. It seems like failure not to. I do realize, though, that when her life gets so small it's time to end it.
I'm feeling much better now. Brenda is still alive and I've stopped putting so much pressure on myself to fix her. I know that I've given her the best 14 months of her life and no matter what happens she won't die the way her abusers wanted her to. She will die loved.
Something strange happened after I gave myself the freedom to just let her be. She has calmed down and things have been peaceful in the apartment. They say dogs are a mirror of ourselves and sometimes I can see why.
Brenda, AKA Little Piglet
In memory of Brenda!
My dogs and me
Sadie is on my right and Porter is on my left
1 comment:
I hope things get better. I saw the story about Brenda on The Huffington Post and I felt so horrible that she was so mistreated (and God knows what happened to the puppies she bore).
You're a good person for taking care of Brenda--she needs a lot of patience, and as you know, not many people have that kind of patience.
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