return TTBP



19 march 2019

The foster dog attacked Stormy last night. And by attacked, it's complicated. She started the tiff, but she's all bark and no bite, and he was freaked, so. But we separated them for a second and then he lunged at her and latched on and drew blood and she could've died, I think.

Part of me feels overdramatic because she didn't die. Part of me feels bad for him because we're taking him back to the shelter where he very possibly could be put down. Part of me is very angry at him, for doing what he did, for betraying my trust in him, for hurting our girl. Part of me wonders how much him being a pitbull mix plays into the feelings of the other parts of me.

This morning I let him out and he and Stella played. Stormy came to check and he came up to her and I thought, maybe this'll be okay, then, but she immediately growled and I had to restrain her. So that's not going to work. Not that it would, not that we'd keep him around even if they were fine, because now we know what he can do. But I was hoping they could patch things up, I guess, before he goes. And they couldn't. Which I don't blame Stormy for. But it scared me so much, all over again. I don't know what I'd do if she were killed.

There's just a lot of complex and competing emotions right now swirling around in me. I was hoping by writing them out I'd work through them. But they're still there. The shelter opens at ten.