Sad weekend

This weekend was a sad weekend for me, so much going on and not enough time to absorb it all.  Personal and rescue and everything in between.  When it rains, it pours.  Our poor Vesper who was rescued last week has Parvo and is at the vet, Loki failed his temperament test and was euthanized and the poor red dogs aren't going to find salvation.  As the morning approaches, they have not found foster care and their clock has finished ticking.  My heart aches for the ones that we can't save.  We can't save them all but it doesn't make it any less frustrating to have their pictures in my inbox begging for a second chance. 

 

I'm no longer working with a local shelter, they have moved back to a fundamentalist no kill mission which means no dog would be put down for any reason, even those dogs that may be a danger to the public.  I just can't get on board with this mindset. I might be able to turn my head to the dogs that aren't pit bulls but I would be very upset at the knowledge that an incorrectly temperamented pit bull could be adopted to the general public.  With the breed in siege and legislated against at every turn, it is the duty of rescuers to only put forth those dogs that match the breed standard in temperament.  Rescuing the breed means rescuing the reputation in addition to the individual dogs.  Adopting out unsound dogs will only hurt everyone in the long run.  It is not a solution that I can accept.  I believe that adoptable dogs should not be euthanized and hope that we can reach that point where adoptable pets are not being euthanized but that day is a long way off.  It brings a certain sadness to my disposition.

 

Sometimes I review things in my head when I can't sleep and the situation with Loki gave me cause for sleepless nights. The decision to euthanize a dog is never an easy one to make.  Well, I correct myself, the decision is in black and white and is easy...it's living with the decision that is the hard part, the sadness at the end of a life.  The sadness that this is another failure of society and more proof that the breed I love is spiraling down and may never recover.  I think about the temperament of my pit bull and of dogs that have passed through my door on their way to new homes and I am thankful that the majority of them have been stable and loving and over the years we have only had to put down a handful, though in recent years, the numbers have begun to climb.  Just makes me sad. 

 

I think about my pit bull and her temperament and I wonder about things that I can't remember.  I don't remember where my two pit bulls were those two nights.  It bothers me that I don't remember.  It bothers me that I am missing parts of those nights, maybe I am not supposed to remember maybe it is better that way but it still bothers me.  I have no recollection of where my dogs were.  They are suspiciously absent from all recollections.