I know it’s only been a day, but I have to get this off of my chest. Just so you understand my frantic reaction to Dixie, to the despair I felt, even when it was because I was too stupid to remove my dog from a fight properly. I get that it’s my fault, and I’m in a much better place than yesterday although it’s still hard to explain to people why my dog isn’t a bad dog.
But let me still start with Diesel, and explain why any sort of aggression towards humans–and especially towards us–makes me feel helpless and like I will never own a dog again. Because there was a moment on Saturday that I thought, “If we have to put Dixie down or send Huck back to the rescue, I will never own a dog again.”
This will be a long post. Extremely long. I’m going to cry by the end and I don’t even know how to make you understand how much we loved this dog and how much we put into him. But you’ll get the long-winded gist of the story. Continue reading