This week I had a training for school in another town. During our lunch break, I was outside, trying to call the doctor because I couldn’t shake this illness I’d had since the week before. As I was about to dial, my phone rang. It was an incoming call from my vet back in Alaska.
When I answered, I expected it to be some kind of clerical thing. But it was a call to confirm the appointment the next day for “our” new dog, Tut. I asked her to verify if this was accurate, and she said yes, for the dog owned by X and myself.
I felt so angry I could barely breath. His new wife’s name is just one letter different from mine, and our full first name is the same. Now that she has his last name, I’m certain that’s how the vet easily made this mistake.
Not only was I angry at the fact that I was still linked to him, but I was so angry and hurt to know he had moved on with another dog.
My instinct was to text him. Let him know that his appointment was tomorrow. That he’d better make sure he had fixed the account. And that I hope he wouldn’t abandon this dog too. I didn’t contact him, but it was hard to hold myself back.
I went back into the training and sat, not listening, trying to hold back tears.
More than anything I want a dog right now. Two, actually, Two Newfoundlands to keep each other company while I’m gone, and to walk with me each day. I want to snuggle and play and brush them. I want the companionship. But with my current job, I just can’t. I am gone too long in the day, and don’t really make enough money to support the feeding of two Newfs. This has been a real disappointment for me, as it was part of my recovery plan but I can’t do it. On top of that, to think that these two horrible people are adopting a dog, that they’re making their “happy” home while I’m still struggling so, it was just too much.
When does this situation become fair? When does he have to pay for what he’s done? Are there really no consequences for him? It’s just me who has to suffer? There is nothing fair or just about this situation. I know it’s just a dog, and it’s not that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things. But that call was a shock. It stung. It reminded me of my Moose, of X leaving us behind, of the grief Moose went through, and then of the grief of loosing him. I still miss Moose terribly. And it hurts that X and I are still ever so slightly connected.