My ex-wife asked for a divorce in September of 2020 and it sent my entire life spiraling. It caught me off-guard, literally blind-sided me as not even a month prior, this woman had broken down in a depressive episode begging me to never leave her (which wasn’t even a thought on my mind). So this divorce really shook up everything I thought I had, it broke all the foundations I thought I built…and I had to start my life over from scratch and leave Texas, heading back to Indiana where I was born and raised.
I won’t go over all the details of this time. I can summarize in saying that I was living with my Mom and her boyfriend, hated it because it was very crummy living conditions. I moved in with my Father which shocked a lot of people since my Father and I did not get along very well as I was growing up. He gave me two-years to get my life together and get my own place. I job-hopped for a minute and, as my Father became increasingly agitated at my way of living, before the year was fully up and over, I had moved out of his house by September of 2021 and into a duplex I started renting.
This was huge stepping stone for me because with the divorce came a lot of lies and mental abuse from my ex-wife. She had gone around telling people that I was irresponsible, wasted money, was the reason we couldn’t get a house, etc. she painted me as the picture-definition of lazy and greedy and emotionally (along with mentally) this really broke me for awhile, because it was something that just wasn’t true. She was making up these lies to garner sympathy and validation for her decision in divorcing me, despite the fact I had always supported her in everything she did (not to mention she never once took accountability for not letting me keep jobs because she hated my complaining, not helping around the house, the fact she started to suffer from a porn addiction, or the fact she did not bother with any of the bill management and never even looked at the bank account so was over-drafting us at regular intervals as well as maxing out credit cards.). So, naturally, with all the lies she had been spreading about me…being single and being able to afford a two-bedroom place with a single-car garage without needing a roommate was a huge accomplishment for me.
But, despite having accomplished this…I was lonely. I wasn’t lonely in the “I wish I was in a relationship” way, but I did wish there was a presence in my life that I could really connect with. Socializing has always been hard for me…and, being a Correctional Officer has made socializing even harder. There’s that constant paranoia of being recognized by inmates when I go out as well as thinking that an inmate might find my house, among other things. My job means I get constant death threats, and am at constant risk of harm. Not to mention, many people associate me with being a Cop (which I’m not) and due to the current ACAB (All Cops Are Bastards) climate, I have even been ghosted by potential dates all because I work in law enforcement. So, there did come a time when I considered getting a pet to ease some of that loneliness and depression.
But I didn’t get one…not until recently. Why?
Well…because my trauma runs deep, and unfortunately, I have not had the greatest luck when it comes to pets. Growing up, I lived in a very poor household, and though my Mother was an animal lover just like me, we didn’t have the best time with pets. Unwanted pregnancies in non-fixed dogs meant sending puppies to shelters where a lot of the time those litters were killed because the shelter was at max (this happened twice). Even after the dogs were fixed, the inability to keep some of the dogs fenced meant we had four dogs on chains all the time that got eaten up by lies in the summer. Even when we moved out to the country and the dogs had 10 acres to roam, improper training meant dogs got their feet and ankles broken by cows, got run over by school buses, and we even had one get shot by a hunter. One dog even died because of a recall on dog food that we were unaware of. So, there was a lot of tragedy with animals growing up. One dog had to be put down because kids were getting too rough with a dog that clearly wasnt having it and he snapped, biting the child. It was deemed that dog (that was very loving and sweet) needed to be put down (which I feel was very unfair to the dog). The only indoor dog we ever had was kept in the laundry room with very little space to move and rarely was she given the chance to explore the house.
So, once I moved out of that house and away from my Mother and Step-Father, I really didn’t want a dog. I didn’t want a dog until I knew I could care for it properly with a decent yard, decent training, and everything that dog would ever need. So instead of getting a dog, I got two cats in 2011 – one I adopted from a shelter (I named her Harlem) and the other was a kitten picked off the street who was named Coda.
These cats were my world and they had want for nothing. They were fully vetted, microchipped, and even had pet insurance. They were bathed regularly and Coda even had two surgeries on his ears. They got toys and all sorts of treats and other goodies and were shown nothing but care and love. But, the girl I was dating at the time did not understand that no animal is perfect. A cat being sick meant she was trying to smear their face in feces when it was clear they were ill, and at one point, I even threatened violence if she touched the cats again after she made Coda’s nose bleed over a small accident. I should have left the woman then…but that’s all in hindsight. But my threatening that woman put it in her mind that the cats were no longer our “shared” pet (not that they ever were considering I covered all costs and care of the cats), and thus she started looking for her own furrever friend. Unfortunately, she picked the worse timing, and went against my wishes.
A summary of my ex-girlfriend would have been that she was a controlling penny-pincher. We barely got anything new. Everything we had was used, repurposed, picked out of a dumpster and restored, gifted, or bought from Craigslist and/or a yard-sale. It was true that this saved us money in the long-run but, it also brought us to odds when the secondhand things were always falling apart, and our house lacked any sort of…consistency and really did just look like we raided a frat house. Still, she would browse craigslist like it was her main hobby, always looking for some new deal…and one day, she ran across an ad for a puppy. This puppy was a rottweiler, German Shepherd, Chow mix. It was barely weened and yet the owner was advertising it as “house/potty trained” and my ex-girlfriend was not the brightest. She believed this lie and despite the $150 price tag for a dog of questionable origin and training, she wanted him. I vehemetly opposed getting this dog for numerous reasons.
- The dog was against our lease in many ways (we already had the max amount of pets and everything this pet was a mixed with was not allowed per our contract)
- Puppies are expensive and we did not have anything for a puppy (not including the fact it would need shots, dewormed probably, among other things).
- Puppies require a lot of training and time (and as night-shift workers we had neither of those things).
- She would be leaving for the Army in less than two-months (which would leave me with all the responsibility).
We argued and fought and eventually she said she was getting the dog whether I liked it or not. So, I went with her to get this new puppy, tried to talk her out of it once she saw how young it was, but she would not be swayed. We drove the dog 20 minutes to Dollar General where we bought the basics for the dog. We walked it around a littered field where the puppy sniffed everything but never went to the bathroom. Then 5 minutes after we get the puppy home, it peed all over our carpet and the ex-girlfriend was furious because “the puppy did not alert us like the guy said he would”. Not even 30 minutes later, the puppy peed on the carpet again and the ex-girlfriend said that I better call the guy back and tell him we were giving back the puppy…but shocker, the guy refused to refund the money and was not going to take the puppy back. So now, we were stuck with Zeke.
So, not wanting to be irresponsible, I took over the care of little Zeke. I took him out every thirty minutes, and even signed him up for puppy training classes. I even taught the training techniques to the ex-girlfriend who could not be damned to attend a class because the one time she did go, Zeke peed on the floor and she was too ashamed to ever go again. I also took Zeke to the vet and did all the things a responsible pet owner should do. But when the ex-girlfriend left for the Army and I had to take care of Zeke all on my own? It became too much. The ex’s brother was supposed to help with the dog since I covered many of his bills. Since he worked in the day and I worked at night, he was expected to take the dog out while I was away. But, a week later, I noticed quite a few things wrong.
- My cats were peeing all over the place and were suddenly becoming scared and aggressive.
- The house smelled strongly of feces even though I did not see any in the house.
Eventually, I figured it out. The brother had not been taking Zeke out as agreed, and the poor puppy had been pooping in his kennel and hiding it under his mountain of toys. The cats were being tortured by water guns which had stressed them out to the point of making them sick…and I was over it. I could not afford to move and could not afford to kick out the Brother. My ex was in the military and we had barely any contact and she wasn’t helping with the bills. So, I did what I had to do and I rehomed Zeke…and then bought a cat cage for my cats hoping this would help them recover and keep them from getting tortured. Zeke went to a loving friend of mine that started running with him every day…and the ex was furious, despite my reasoning. Then, when I saw that the cats were not recovering as I had hoped…I rehomed them too. I rehomed them to a couple with a large house, and even went to check on them months later…and they were as spoiled as can be and back to their happy selves.
It was a tough time. I got a lot of hate for wanting to rehome the pets. I was called “irresponsible” and told I should not have pets if I didn’t have the means to take care of them. Of course, no one knew the full story. I wasn’t about to put my ex on blast because her and I were “trying to work it out”, and putting her brother on blast would cause even more tension with that. So all I could do was shrug and keep saying “I did my best” while other berated me and looked down on me for doing what was best for the animals.
Now fast-forward to my time in Texas.
My ex-wife and I lived in a one-bedroom apartment that did not allow pets. We couldn’t even afford pets because we could barely afford our bills. The ex-wife was always complaining because she wanted a dog, but, seeing how she overdrafted our bank spending $80 on an app, and seeing how she couldn’t even be bothered to take out the trash, grab the mail, or even pick up her laundry, I wasn’t about to put myself in a similar situation like I did with getting Zeke. She used this against me later when telling people how horrible I was. she said my being lazy meant we never could have a nice place or get animals…
…but now in 2022, I have my own place, much larger than the one we shared, and, I just adopted two beautiful dogs from a shelter in Sullivan, Indiana.
“So what’s the challenge?”
These dogs are Brother and Sister. Both a mixed breed that is large (essentially they are pitbulls), and they were in the shelter for a year after being taken from a home with 8 other animals because they dogs are aggressive with other dogs. Zoey and Zeus are the sweetest when it comes to people. They are kiss and cuddle machines, but, when they see another animal, they become something else entirely. Lunging, jumping, snapping at each other, barking, whining, and even showing teeth if another animal gets too close. They clearly suffer from some issues and it’s really hard to pinpoint the origin.
With dog-aggression this can come down to being over-bred (which is possible but we don’t know their family history), this can come down to trauma (which is the most likely option since the house had a bunch of other animals and even when given the chance to get them back the owner did not want them), anxiety (common in pitbulls so also a very easy thing to see as the culprit), or just something medical/neurological. But, because these dogs can not be socialized around other dogs, they were not great candidates for adoption. Also, being kept in a shelter where they were clearly stressed out because of the other animals, Zoey’s aggression was increasing to the point where the shelter was considering euthanizing them. As someone that is single with no children (nor want of them) and no other animals…I decided to step in and rescue them because they did not deserve to be put down because they are different.
But, there are now a lot of things I have to consider.
- My dogs will never be “normal” dogs. Even if I can eventually afford the training and get the meds, there’s no guarantee any of that will work. Many owners of dog-aggressive dogs have just had to accept that they need to muzzle their dogs on walks, steer clear of as many other animals as possible, and hope for the best because taking your dog out in public is always a risk.
- There might come a day when my dogs get away from me and attack another animal. If that happens, I will be charged fines and might even have to have the dogs put down if the damage is serious enough.
- People will question why I bothered with these animals, will look down on my decision, and if they see that my dogs are just living inside except for the few times I place them on a lead because walking them is so risky, they might look upon me as if I am a bad owner.
The hardest part in keeping these dogs thus far has been in realizing that their damage goes beyond just dog-aggression. My dogs love to cuddle but don’t know how to play. They don’t play with toys or each other. Half the time I can’t tell if my dogs are bored or actually content because they do not give off body language like other dogs, but they do snuggle and kiss me often so, I have taken that as a good sign. I have to keep reminding myself that anything I do for these dogs is better than the life they were living. They get to go out 3-4 times a day, they are fed. The couch and my bed are their domain and they get love and attention almost on demand. They are kenneled only when I am gone, and I don’t get mad at their accidents because I understand they are adjusting, as am I. They are fully vetted, I found groomers that will take them even though they are dog-aggressive, and I have their check-ups scheduled as well.
I am always doing research and am always trying to find ways to help my dogs because I know that trying to train them on my own is going to be a real chore…and something I feel like I can not do alone. Still, I am willing to give it a shot. So…despite my past trauma that keeps welling up in me, telling me I’m this horrible dog-mom and horrible person. I literally have two precious puppers that always get so happy to see me and spend the day nuzzling up to me. I’m doing more work for them than anyone ever has, and even though my brain tells me they are bored and they hate me, the way they jump on me and get zoomies around the house tends to tell me otherwise.
I am excited for this journey back into pet life, but I’m also anxious. I love the purpose I have been given in these dogs life, but I also miss a lot of my freedom already. It’s going to take time, the challenges will get harder but the good times will also get better. The real hard part is remembering to breathe and just take it one step at a time.
Mia's Challenge 