The Day I Knew the Dog Had To Go

When you have dogs and are pregnant with your first child people always ask, “How do you think the dog will handle the new baby?” We told people we were a little nervous about our older dog {little brown dog}; she was a bit grumpy and decidedly less socialized. Our other dog {big black dog} was going to be a champ; she was laid-back, friendly, a gentle giant. Boy, were we wrong. “re-home” the family dog
"re-home" the family dog

Once our son was walking our big black dog started opting out of family time more and more. While our little brown dog was eager to be doted on by the toddler, the other dog was not. We sought the advice of a dog trainer we respected. On his advice we were careful to always leave her a quiet place to escape, we upped her exercise and gave her more attention after baby’s bedtime. Things didn’t improve.

The first time I heard her growl at our son my chest tightened. I’ve survived three dog bites that have left me stitched and scarred. The permanent tracks on my cheeks and lips mean I know more than most how things can escalate, dangerously. Once my blood pressure leveled I did exactly the thing I thought I wouldn’t do in this situation: I rationalized (it was just a growl, maybe I even misheard), I blamed the victim (maybe my son was playing a little rough and I hadn’t realized). My gut said “This isn’t working out,” but my heart was saying “We love her, we have to make this work!” Instead of letting her exile herself at will I started crating her more and more. I never let them out of my sight, and I never left them alone.

When my husband and I began talking about “re-homing” her we both got emotional. My husband (who barely tolerates sharing a king-size bed with me) happily slept on the floor with her for a week after she’d had a surgery. She was loved and doted on.

But the more we hesitated, the more guilt I felt.

The dog’s quality of life tanked: guilt. Adopt a dog and then “abandon” it: guilt. My son was learning, or at least witnessing, behaviors that could lead him to a fear of dogs: guilt. It would just take one bite, one attack to maim or kill my child: guilt. It kept piling on.

"re-home" the family dog

I looked for photos of our dogs from these months. What I found were dozens of pictures of our little brown dog interacting with our toddler. She may have sustained more than her shares of ear pulls or rough play, but she was patient; she was gentle. She had our trust. She was exactly the dog we needed for this stage of life, surviving in a home with young kids.

One day, my son, our big black dog and I were playing. It was some of that hyper-supervised play time that I dared to think would condition the dog and make us all more comfortable. This time I knew it was a growl, and a nip that didn’t land. I know my son was well within what we expected from him as far as appropriate touch. I couldn’t ignore our dog problem anymore and she was out of our home that day.

The feeling can only be described as heartbreak laced with relief.

There were tears, but no second-guessing. As much as I loved her, my responsibility is to my child above all else. From time to time I’ll see Facebook posts admonishing those who get rid of a dog, reinforcing that you make a lifetime commitment to your animals. Knowing what we know now, we never would have adopted her. But, we did, and we had five mostly happy years with her in our home. I hope she was adopted again, and after disclosing all of her behaviors, in a more compatible home, incident-free. If she was ultimately put down I trust that it was done with dignity, a high but necessary price to pay for safety. It’s a decision I can live with – whereas I could never live with the regret if I failed to protect my child.

How did you know it was time to “re-home”
the family dog?

Ginny Ellis
Ginny Ellis is a hometown girl who happily resides in East Wichita with her husband, two young sons, two rowdy dogs, and one spoiled tortoise. Together they enjoy taking part in all our city has to offer, especially if it involves being outdoors, supporting the arts, or is particularly delicious. She is a WAHM who serves as WMB's Events Director as well as holding volunteer positions in Junior League of Wichita, on her neighborhood elementary school's PTO Board, and for United Way of the Plains. Ginny is a podcast enthusiast, laundry folding procrastinator, and insatiable reader who loves the Shockers, theme parties, and her margaritas on the rocks.

3 COMMENTS

  1. We went through the same thing. Our second dog became violent when our youngest began walking. She would attack unprovoked, and bit me, my husband, the older kids, and our other dog, repeatedly. On the advice of our vet, a dog trainer, and a rescuer, we had to get her out of our house. No rescue would take her, we tried all of them, there isn’t a no kill shelter here, and we couldn’t give her away to someone knowing what we knew about her behavior because she might seriously injured or kill someone. We had no other choice but to give her to the humane society. We hated to do it, but the day she pinned my toddler to the ground and was lunging for his face, we knew we were out of options. Some of us still have scars from her attacks, four years later, and still cry over having to remove her from our home. But the safety of our children had to come first.

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