Monday, September 8, 2008


Technically, it's his dog. Not that I don't love Harley, but I shouldn't have to be the one to make this decision. Divorce in itself is hard enough. Harley is a 12 year old German Shepard. Even in poor health he weighs in at over 100 pounds. It's been 2 months since I kicked my husband out. I couldn't take the lies anymore. At some point he briefly mentioned coming to get his 'best friend', but has never made any kind of effort to do so. He knew Harley's health was rapidly deteriorating, and I have left him several messages expressing this. When I came home last night, Harley pulled himself up off the porch and went out to roam the yard. I watched his legs shake and helped him into the house where he collapsed in the living room. That's where he is now. Still. He can't get up, and I can't move him. I have laid in the floor next to him and cried all day, but his eyes tell me that it's time to make the decision. The big one that all pet owners dread making. The one I shouldn't have to make. In the morning I will call and see if any vets in our area make house calls.

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