Charles

"A man (or woman!) should never be ashamed to own he has been in the wrong, which is but saying... that he is wiser today than he was yesterday." - Alexander Pope

Ahhh Charlie, the sweet little terrier-poodle cross from the Humane Society. Had you been the only dog in our house, this would have all worked out fine. As it stands, Maggie is the Ruler of the Roost, and you and she just don't get along. I'm sorry, little dude, but I had to take you back to the Humane Society so a family who has more space (and less Maggie) in their lives could adopt you.

Here's the back story - after realizing that children will not be a part of our lives, I wanted to add another dog to the mix. The theory being he or she would be a playmate for Maggie, our poodle from the Humane Society 3 years ago, and would help to calm her down a bit (did I mention she's kinda high-strung?). As well, caring and loving him or her would fill a little more of the empty spot in my heart, and let me love another little soul (albeit a soul covered in fur.)

Maggie, however, had other plans. She has Plans of World Domination, and her world is our house. I know she's gotten along with other dogs before; not famously, but well enough that I thought perhaps this could work. Enter Charlie. The 'meet-n-greet' went okay, but once at home the clashing began. Maggie would hide in her kennel. Charlie would eat her food. Maggie would lash out. Charlie would fight back. hmmmmm...... Not good.

There is the theory that I could have waited longer, given them more time before taking him back. Maybe things would have improved between Queen Margaret and Prince Charles. Maybe they would have worked it all out, and I was being too impulsive. But I felt so bad for Maggie! Here she was, finally settling in and not being as aggressive as before, and then I go and add another dog to the mix, and he's getting all the attention! She had to share her bed, her food, her water, and my lap, Scott's attention. And then I felt bad for Charlie! Here he was, all set to be adopted by some nice family in the near future (he'd only been there a week) and I plucked him out of there with promises of a Lady-friend and many quiet naps on the couch, and a few belly rubs too. And what he got was a lot of surprises instead.

I didn't want him (and us) to get so attached that we couldn't see that this wasn't going to work. I also knew that people who were looking at him last week would still be checking the Humane Society website, and would be happy to see him still there for them. So I decided this was just an expensive weekend for all (emotionally and financially) and took him back to the people who could best find him a good home. Sadly, we are not a "good home". But I am wiser! I will never adopt a dog while Maggie is still with us. I swear.

And so, his little bark, funny walk, and voracious appetite are meant for someone else. Good luck, Charlie (although I don't think you'll need it, cute boy!)