Kiki and Linus (the rosebud diary)

I don't think anyone truly understands how difficult this is, to have Linus in my house because of Kiki.  It's my own fault because I like to keep things pretty close to the chest.  So no-one knows how much Kiki hurt me, how much I wanted to keep that little dog if my living situation would have been different. How much I really loved her and wanted her and saw something special in that little body - that twinkle in her eye that said "I want to live" even though she was so scared of the world.  How much I cried when she took her last breath.  I would have kept her, kept her safe and she would have been much like Annabelle eventually.  Not adoptable but to the general public, a pretty good example, her mistakes and shortcomings kept private.  How I couldn't in an rental house, in a neighborhood of inappropriate children, with my own niece coming over.  How I contemplated just quitting rescue after putting her down.  How much I still think of her and wonder if I did the right thing, if I somehow couldn't have made it work.

Now, one year later, another unadoptable dog in my house, my niece moved to tennessee and on the cusp of purchasing a home....this isn't Kiki.  This isn't my squirrely little girl.  It hurts and it also hurts because of the other dogs that don't need this much work that won't get a chance.  Same conflict I had over Kiki, all of the other dogs without her issues that need a chance and won't get one.  Dogs that are currently "adoptable".  The whole host of issues that come with a dog like this.  Things I think about every day.   I can't help comparing the two.

Perhaps I'm the perfect place for Linus. I have no expectations for him so there is no need to be impatient with him when he doesn't meet them.  He's shy, unsocialized and lacks bite inhibition.  His reactions are sometimes unpredictable.

I can open his crate and lay on my back 5 feet away and he will stand inside and wag his tail.  Most dogs will come when I do this, even the shy ones.  I just lay there looking up at the ceiling and he won't come.  Zelda comes to say hi, even walks into the crate to rub his face because she knows he's a twinkie. He wags his tail harder but doesn't come. Eventually he will lay back down and we will have a stalemate.  I close the door and go away. Then I will come back, open the crate and walk away.  He follows to the door, I hook him to the cable and help him down the stairs.  We spent a lot of time looking at each other and just sitting outside.