My heart is pounding, I unwisely poured myself a second cup of coffee, my shoulders haven't relaxed since Monday, and I am racing with nervous energy that simultaneously shouts "do all the things NOW!!" and "just stare at the wall and dissociate for a bit."
We're in a bit of a family crisis at the moment. Our dog, Bear, got out of the house Monday afternoon and bit our next door neighbor. He is okay, thankfully--bruised and broke skin, but everything was surface level and there shouldn't be any long term issues. Chris brought him to the emergency room immediately afterwards to get checked out. We emailed our landlords and told them about the situation the second we got the neighbor home. That night they let us know that Bear is no longer welcome here, and we had three days to get him off the property.
We are not getting evicted...Bear just isn't allowed to live her any more. Which makes complete sense. I cannot describe how utterly shitty it feels to be the neighbor with the problem dog. We both feel so ashamed. And so upset. And very overwhelmed by how to move forward. Our neighbor has been literally too kind to us, considering. We're grateful for him. And we're grateful for landlords who are also not kicking us out. That gives us some flexibility.
Monday night was horrible and I rage cried for hours. I called my friend, and my mom. Tuesday morning I grieved a little but overall felt way more clear-headed. I was unfocused all day and then stayed up until 1:30am writing an 8-page research paper that I had, of course, procrastinated on (here's a lesson I probably won't learn: don't procrastinate because emergencies happen and surprise!! you still can't drop any balls!!). Wednesday we made a thousand plans for a thousand different scenarios, and let ourselves just chill and spend time together. Today (Thursday) we went on one last of our perfect, family coffee walks and then Chris left for New Jersey with Bear. He'll stay there with his parents for at least two weeks, while we make more of a game plan and explore some options. Today I will finish this blog post, work out, eat real meals, and go to work.
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| A bookshelf Chris just finished. |
The plan right now is not to rehome Bear. He's still young (he's just two), and in my heart of hearts I do feel like there is room to make progress and work towards making him less reactive. Rehoming him in this moment seems irresponsible--like we are just walking away from our problems and putting him in a stressful situation that likely will result in him getting more aggressive. So we need to try. Of course, this mostly hinges on us being able to find another living situation. We have to be upfront with new possible landlords, and it's scary to feel like no one will want us with Bear's history. I don't know what we will do if we can't find a place to live, but we 're going to give us some time to search before we worry about that. If we are able to move, we will be able to break our lease once a new tenant is found for our current apartment. It will just be continuing to pay rent until the next renter can start (which is pretty generous given that our lease continues until August).
I am scared about the increased training we will need to undertake with Bear, to ensure that we can be good owners to him for the future. I'm scared we won't be able to handle it, or that it won't work and we'll still have to consider getting rid of him. I honestly do not think my heart could take getting rid of him. I've been very slow to get used to owning a dog, but now that we are two years in I really would be heart broken without him and I don't want to do that. Still, I worry about what this means our future lives will look like: what will happen when we have kids? Will we ever be able to have friends over, throw parties?
I am very sad to be leaving this apartment. I really love it here. I love the space, I love the location. I love that it's clean. I love that we have laundry in the basement. I love that it feels like a real home. I love that it's the place I started to feel really grounded in my grown up rhythms: clean sheets every Sunday, the weekly meal plan stuck to the fridge, extra bedding stored for guests in the closets, long walks with Chris and Bear every morning and afternoon. We were really coming into our own here. I was loving this season of life.
I was looking forward to a lot in this home: I just bought pansies and tomato plants to cover the porches in summer-fueled life. Chris' parents were supposed to visit in two weeks, and I was scheming last-minute decorating projects before they saw the place for the first time. I wanted to host a Mother's Day Lunch, and a Memorial Day cookout. Chris just finished a bookshelf he designed himself, to fit exactly under the big living room window. I have a pile of frames waiting to be hung above our bed.
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| Chaotic Easter snaps. |
This past weekend was Easter, and it was such a good one. I was utterly blissed out. In the morning we walked Bear and then made a special Easter brunch for the two of us: mimosas, french press cafe au laits, cinnamon rolls, and fruit salad. I made appetizers and homemade rolls to bring to my parents for a big family lunch. We talked about how this was really the first holiday since we've moved in together where everything felt so right: we didn't overcommit, but also set aside time for fun holiday things; there was no tension with my parents; we weren't stressed about Bear. It felt like we were finally figuring out what our adult lives could look like.
And instead, and instead, and instead. What a shitty turn of events.
We can only focus on what we can control, and right now that is: being proactive about looking for places. Being honest with friends and family and asking for help. Being on top of our finances so we're prepared for whatever needs to happen. Taking care of ourselves. Honestly though, part of me wants to just burn it all down: go full send and just move to New Orleans, or just bop from Air BnB to Air Bnb and see the country. Sneak away to a new city and live in a tight, sunny little loft. I think you only get one shot to really burn down your life and start over; maybe this could be it?
This feels like the start of a formative moment; a challenge that will shape us. I'm proud to say we feel really together and are each proud of how the other is handling things. Maybe in a few years we'll look back and this will just be a crazy, chaotic adventure. It sucks right now though.
Is this just what adulthood is? Continuous, utter chaos?
