Yesterday my dog bit me in the head and I made an excuse for him.
Two weeks ago he bit my cousin and I made an excuse for him.
A month ago he attacked my cousin's dog and I made an excuse for him.
Last night I let him sleep in my daughter's room like he does every night. I had made so many excuses for him that I believed it would be fine. He was a sweet little beagle with an adorable face who I made excuses for.
Like a ducking moron.
When my daughter got up this morning she came into my office where I was writing a novella for the single lady spy series and told me her iPad landed on her face when she was reading. I knew instantly the dog bite on her face, the one that had broken the skin and had bled, was not caused by an iPad. But she made up a story, just like I had been doing.
None of us wanted to face the fact our beautiful beagle, Mr. Beagle as we referred to him, was sick and getting meaner by the day.
But today I ran out of excuses and I stopped trying to make them. Today I put on my big girl panties and took my lovely dog to the vet and did the responsible adult thing to do. I put my dog down. My dog that I snuggled with every day. My dog that slept with me when my kids were gone. My dog who I believed would always be there.
I made a horribly hard choice and let him go to that peaceful place I personally believe in—squirrel hell.
Rest in peace Mr. Beagle and screw you adulthood. I hate being the adult in the room most days and I really hated it today.
My daughter is fine by the way. And her tetanus is now up to date again...
Thanks for letting me vent in an unprofessional manner.