Off topic: Why I surrendered my dog.

I surrendered a pet today. It was painful. Not in a pushing-a-child-out way, but in a hole-in-my-heart way.
About a year ago, we took home a puppy I (of course) fell in love with at the farm and ranch store. I'm a sucker for puppies, and I was "jones-ing" for one. I had a dog—our pug, Roxy—but what was one more dog when you've got the space?
I had plenty on my plate, with baby Tank at about 3 months and M going on 2, but I didn't care about the work. I've raised puppies before, no big deal. We named him Rowdy.
As it turns out, Rowdy was aptly named. He was full of energy (like you'd expect from any heeler-border collie mix), boisterous and excitable. Unfortunately, he was also excessively destructive.
I'm no stranger to dogs and puppies, but this puppy was particularly tenacious in that destruction. Where my previous dogs have always learned the first time, this one didn't. It didn't matter how intense the discipline, he just didn't get it. He'd return to the same bad behavior (shoes, for example) within an hour, if given the chance.
Now, I get the teething thing. But teething ends, and Rowdy's desire to chew didn't. That's fine, if it's limited to the (hundreds?!) of appropriate chew toys given. But Rowdy didn't; he would choose shoes over rawhide rolls.
It was hard to deal with. After the first couple hundred dollars of merchandise, I was at my wit's end. I sought help. Most told me he didn't have enough to do. Really?!? I live on 5 acres. There are neighbor dogs to run the fence lines with. He went jogging with me and thus had training time. He went out with me when I rode the horse, meaning more training time. He had the pug to play with.
So I held on, reluctant to "abandon" a dog that I had taken in with every intention of keeping him until he died of old age. We thought, he just needs to get a little older, he just needs more attention.
It was when he destroyed my Oakley sunglasses that I first thought, This dog cannot stay. His tally of destroyed items was well over $800 by then. Replacing the items he was destroying was breaking our budget.
As my thoughts and the advice started trending toward getting rid of him, Rowdy threw in a new twist: He started displaying aggressive behavior toward baby Tank.
This was especially troubling, because as Tank grew, it was clear that Tank loved Rowdy. This child would crawl, then run to the puppy to wrap his arms around his neck and head and bury his head into his fur.
First it was just in Rowdy's comfort zones, like his bed and in my room, where he sleeps at night. The dog would growl but he'd also move away, obviously uncomfortable with Tank getting too close. Of course I did what responsible people do—I limited their interaction, never left them unsupervised together. But here's a fact of life for any childless individuals who might ever read this: You CANNOT constantly keep your eyes on your babies. They become independent and quick little buggers. And if you allow your dogs inside, there will be times when you won't be there.
That worried me. I never wanted to put Rowdy in the position where he felt so uncomfortable or threatened that he bit anyone, least of all my son. But I couldn't kick the dog outside indefinitely, either. His destruction increased threefold if left outside alone while we were in the house. Any doggy bed we provided was shredded within minutes.
Yes, he needed attention. But it was becoming obvious that I couldn't give him the right kind. But I still held on, because I had guilt. I have friends who would post things on Facebook that made me feel more guilty, like, "A dog is like a child. You have them for life." Well, that's not realistic, it's idealistic.
The breaking point was when he snapped at M and almost got her, in a neutral area without provocation. I stewed for several weeks... But it was over. I made the decision to surrender Rowdy to the Denver Dumb Friends League, and I did it today. It sucked.
My baby boy loves that dog. He won't be able to ask me what happened to him, but M can. I was honest with her: Rowdy is going to be adopted by a new family.
I could go on with all my rationalizations for surrendering Rowdy. But it would make a small book.
In the end, the cold, hard truth is dogs are not people. I wasn't able to give Rowdy what he needed, and if he had bitten one of my kids, there would be hell to pay. I believe completely that it was best for him and for our family: the shelter has many more resources available to re-home animals than I do.
But it did suck. And I truly do have a new hole in my heart, because the past year has been full of animal loss: my cat, Zephyr; my pug, Roxy; my MIL's dog we had to put down, Lucy; my old man, Rascal, who is counting his days; and now, the loss of Rowdy.

I'm praying that someone new, without kids, will be able to give him that forever home that I had wholeheartedly intended to give him. And if you're reading this, stop and give him a little prayer for me.

And if you're one of those PETA-minded folks, know this: Not everyone gives up their pets because they just don't care and haven't tried. Please stop assuming that those who surrender are jerks. Thanks!