The Fear of Letting Go

 "We spend enormous energy trying to control what cannot be controlled..." - Mahatma Gandhi

Something happened to me on June 16th. We took Timmy, our foster puppy, to a meeting place where a special transport took him a few hundred miles to his new home and family. The hours leading up to that moment took me on an emotional journey that I'm not sure I was prepared for, and it kind of took me by surprise. To understand why, I'm going to take you back to 2011 when my dog Ruckus first entered my life.

It was the end of Spring in 2011. I had just come back from an out of town photo shoot that took place in Galveston, Texas. It had been a fun, but kind of draining trip. I planned it so that a few friends of mine would meet me at the beach once I was done with the photo shoot. We decided to just make a small weekend getaway out of it and were going to camp out on the beach. It ended up not really working, as the beach we were on didn't allow us to spend the night. We had to leave in the middle of the night because the ranger came and made us tear down our tent.

He was at least nice about it, but it was really late in day, almost midnight. We were exhausted and we had to then find a hotel in the middle of the night so we could at least get some rest before coming back home the next day. Needless to say, when I got home that following afternoon, I was pretty tired from the trip. It was a great experience, but seeing how it didn't quite pan out the way I had originally wanted it to, I kind of felt a bit defeated by it all.

Actually, the real reason I had kind of felt a bit flat was I was still recovering emotionally from a breakup earlier that year. That relationship definitely needed to be severed, but it had been several months since it happened, and although initially I felt confident in my decision, by this point I had begun to miss her and it was beginning to wear me down.

It's odd to know that you confidently made a decision that was in your best interest, but still feel the sting of loss and loneliness. It's almost like my course correction win was short lived. I couldn't stop thinking of all the usual possibilities, despite the fact that I knew in my heart those possibilities weren't what I needed. The weeks that lead up to that trip were especially difficult for some reason. As it happens in these situations, everything was reminding me of her and some of the things I had chosen to let go of. And it wasn't really like I was giving myself the option to try again. I knew it would never happen, not because I didn't think we could get back together, but I just didn't want to be together.

Whenever I make an important decision, I tend to analyze it from every angle and dwell on the options and choices for what may seem like weeks before I pull the trigger. This had been going on for months before I actually broke it off, so I knew it was the right decision. But still, we're human, and we miss those who aren't in our lives anymore due to a break up like this, death or just growing apart as lives continue onward away from each other's road in life.

I remember just getting home that afternoon and feeling the emptiness in my apartment waiting for me like some kind of unwanted pest. I started copying over the photo files onto my computer and just kind of sat there on the couch in a bit of a numb state.

Then I heard something coming from the outside of my patio door. I didn't pay much attention to it at first, since it was something I had heard many times before. It was the small whimper and noise of a dog. It sounded like a puppy. My apartment was on one of the outward facing plots that had a nice grassy hill in front of it, so people would often walk by with their dogs. I heard lots of barking and just general pet and owner noises pretty often, so it didn't really register. I got up and started organizing the files I had just copied over.

I remember several hours passing by, I had gotten something to eat and I was just sitting in front of my computer. And I heard the sound again. I thought it was a bit odd since it was almost dark by this point. Typically I didn't hear a lot of commotion this time of day, so I decided to take a peek and see what was going on. I heard a small whimper again as I came closer to the patio door. It was definitely a puppy. I wasn't sure what was going on. I split the vertical blinds a bit so I could see if someone was walking their dog that late at night. I didn't see anything on the grassy hill. I turned on the patio light and slid the glass door open.

To my surprise, right in front of me was a small puppy. It looked like a pitbul, and he just trotted his way right into my apartment. At first I was like, "Wait...what?! Who are you!?" He just kind of trotted around the apartment sniffing things and came right up to me and began to just kind of rear up on me and got all excited.

I looked back out into the patio, almost as if I was trying to see if his owner was out there. Maybe he just kind of got loose and found his way into my patio. But, when I took a closer look at his size and the fence around my patio, I realized there was no way for him to have squeezed through. He couldn't have gotten in there by himself, which means someone deliberately put him in my patio. I thought that was really odd, but there was no other answer. My fence was also surrounded by a pretty big hedge. So it was even stranger that I didn't hear any commotion before either. He must have been in the patio for hours because it was the same sound I had heard earlier in the afternoon. Poor little guy had been stuck there.

He had a harness on him, but no collar. He definitely wasn't a random stray. He belonged to someone, and I didn't know who. He continued to happily sniff everything in my apartment. I kind of just grinned at him and decided to get on the floor to sit down and see if he would come to me. He didn't need any kind of coaxing at all. The minute I sat on the floor he came right over to me and plopped himself in my lap.

I thought, "You're a strange little one to just come up to a complete stranger and not have any inhibitions." But little did I know that this would be one of his endearing qualities that never went away, even up until the day he passed away. As I looked at him and gave him a little scratch behind his ears, I had a really deeply rooted sense of sorrow that overcame me all of a sudden. This dog looked exactly like the pitty my ex had. She had two dogs actually, and I would dog sit often for her if and when she went out of town. I loved those dogs. They were super sweet. I had never bothered getting a dog of my own at this point, because I didn't want them to be cooped up in a small apartment. So I kind of missed going over to her house and spending time with them.

This little guy was just like a smaller carbon copy of her pitty for sure. I wasn't sure how to feel about this now. My demeaner changed from curiosity to slight sadness. Well, I had to figure out who he belonged to, so I guess I had a task on my hands.

I won't go into my relationship with this pitty pup. I would later name him Ruckus, and he was my dog for almost 13 years. There were a lot of moments when I had to get passed some frustrations of having a puppy that I wasn't prepared for. Although Ruckus was probably the best dog I've ever had (I realize everyone says that about their dog lol) I just wasn't prepared for a pet, let alone a high energy puppy that needed and wanted my attention.

One of the things that I had to deal with was the frustration of trying to convey things to a creature that didn't communicate or understand me. It was like I had to figure out a whole new way of teaching. I couldn't just explain things to him and tell him why I was getting angry at him. He just didn't understand that. But he was always sad and scared if and when I got angry with him. It was an impasse. I had to learn how to deal with this new challenge, and there were moments when I was just about to give up entirely.

It's different when you mentally and even financially prepare to have a new pet in your life. But when one just shows up unannounced, it can throw a huge wrench into your life. However, I was never really able to find who his owner was, not really anyway. So I eventually kept him, and he was my dog for years. He was my best friend, and my loving companion.

In late 2023 he began to slow down a lot. He stopped eating, and he just seemed drained of any desire to do much. He slept mostly. I knew he was getting along in age, but it just seemed to happen all of a sudden. On January 11th, 2024 we made the difficult decision to put him to sleep. We didn't want him to continue to just live a decaying half-life. I wanted him to get better, but I didn't want it to be a selfish reason. I loved him and wanted him to feel peaceful and enjoy life. So ultimately, it was in his best interest to decide to keep him from getting worse.

The last day we had him with us was one of the worst days I can remember in a LONG time. From the morning we woke up, I kept checking my watch almost every few minutes. The time when we needed to take him in just kept looming closer and closer like a huge wave. There was nothing I could do to stop it. All that could be done was just stare at it as it came towards me with all its ferocity.

We did all kinds of things with him in those final moments. And when the day came to an end, we took him and were all with him as he closed his eyes for the last time, surrounded by his family. That moment tore a hole in me so badly. I actually felt sorry for my family in that moment. Nobody there had ever heard me cry out like that before. It was a sense of loss I hadn't felt since I was a young boy when my grandfather died. He was the strongest father figure I had up to that point, and losing him was such a huge detrimental loss to me.

I felt my entire body cave in as I held my best friend in my arms. It was like that for the next couple of days. My heart just ached. And then all of a sudden, my mind had blocked it away. The deep sorrow I felt kind of just disappeared. I still missed him, and it was just so empty in the house without him despite us having the other two little guys with us. But I think my heart had been torn so badly, that my mind locked it away. It was almost like my mind and body reacted the same way someone who develops PTSD does. The memories are still there, but it's like my mind has built a wall around that moment in my life to keep it from tearing me a part again.

By this time, Randi and I had been involved with an animal rescue called Mutts N Such. We had been involved since mid November in 2023. Although I had already enjoyed what we were doing with and for the rescue, now that Ruckus had passed away, the act of finding a home for these neglected animals meant so much more to me. It's like it was a way to pay back all those years Ruckus was there for me when I had no one else. He saw me go through a lot. I loved him, fought with him and took care of him. He was a part of me, and that was now gone. But, we still had two other pups and at least we had made the decision on our own and gave him a great last day.

I don't really have any regrets about what we did that day. I know he was perfectly content to be with his family at the end. Besides, there were lots of dogs and cats that needed a new home, so I turned that pain into a promise to do whatever I could to help this rescue.

So, fast forward to the end of May, we had decided to foster another pup. We had already fostered one a month or two before, and this new little guy needed someone to look after him while we searched for the right home for him. His name was Timmy. He was a sweet little guy, but oh man he was really hyper. He had a light tan coat, and although he didn't look like Ruckus too much, he felt like him in a lot of ways. Those first few days we had him, he gave me a run for my money. That little guy got into everything, as puppies tend to do. I hadn't had a puppy around that young in so long, I had forgotten how much work it can be.

Some of the moments of me getting onto him for various puppy things reminded me of my first days with Ruckus. It was really hard when I came to terms with that. It was like reliving those early times with him, and I think that frustration and realization hit me pretty hard. I did my best to not get too frustrated with Timmy since he was just a puppy. But what I wasn't prepared for was also being with him all day long when he needed me after he had his surgery. Luckily he bounced back pretty quickly, but all those memories of when Ruckus had his own surgery and how scary that was came flooding back to me.

I had already felt like I was over the initial pain and suffering of losing Ruckus from the previous months, but now I was almost forced to relive a few of those moments with Timmy. It was so strange. The same feeling of love, anger, confusion, frustration and adoration was with me every moment with Timmy. He would sometimes look at me when I was petting him, and my heart would just melt. He was a sweet little guy, and I began to feel that familiar feeling of dread coming into my heart as I knew that I would have to say goodbye to him soon.

It's strange, because this time around, the goodbye wasn't really a bad one. It would mean he found a new family and he would hopefully be loved for the rest of his life. It was the whole reason why we did this in the first place. But foster failure syndrome is a real thing, and we always joked about how we would try our best not to do that. But, the longer I was with Timmy, the more I loved him and the harder it was to know I would need to let him go one day.

The morning of the big day came, and I was dreading it. We had church that morning and then went grocery shopping as we usually do. When we came home, we just basically hung out with the dogs all afternoon. We played with him, had a great old time. But, every few minutes, I kept looking at my watch. That familiar sense of dread and sorrow began to grow in my heart, and I was afraid. I didn't want to relive the hurt I felt losing my Ruckus again. It felt very much like that too. I could tell Randi was feeling the same too. Timmy would look at me as I held him that day, and I swear to you he had this look in his eyes, like he knew I was sad.

We packed him up, and took him to the meeting place where a bunch of other foster parents were also there with their pups. There were a few others who were having just as much of  hard time as we were. It was like a bunch of parents standing around, seeing their kids go off to school for the very first time and wondering if they would be okay in the hands of strangers. However, unlike that example, we wouldn't see our babies ever again. They were going away, some of the several states away, to new families and new experiences.

I was torn on the inside standing outside of that van while they loaded everyone up. Luckily, Timmy didn't cause any issues and just calmly went with the others to go on his long ride to his new hone. My mind was violently swirling with the usual What Ifs and just going in circles with the stupid amount of invisible worries and concerns we all have in those moments. We took photos of us and the pups before they left. We were mostly quiet on the way home, but even as I was telling Randi how glad I was he finally found a good home, I broke down again.

It was just too much like the day we lost Ruckus. I didn't think I could handle something so painful so soon after my dog passed away. It wasn't anyone's fault, It just happens. I'm glad we were there for Timmy. I spent the most tie with him while he was here. He would come curl up next to my leg while I worked. He was a sweet little dreamer too. One o the worst things I always felt and thought was, I just hoped that he would soon forget about us. I didn't want him to feel like we were abandoning him and just sending him off because we didn't want him. On the contrary, I would have just completely accepted my foster failure with open arms if we had already agreed to the new family.

That same feeling of sorrow and dread followed us home that night. I knew in time, things would feel better. And they have. We've gotten some updates and photos on Timmy's new home. He absolutely loves it there, and he has a new sister. It makes me so happy that he's found a loving home and a new mama. Timmy was such a sweet reminder of my early years with Ruckus. I guess maybe I needed that? I needed to have that moment where I wasn't just pushing my deeply rooted hurt away. It gave me a chance to remember how to push through hard times with someone you love.

I think we need time to reflect on those moments in our lives that we can grow from. We may be faced with similar instances where we are unsure of what to do, and the fear of letting go is so overpowering. But in letting go of our fears and doubts and embracing the good things that come to us in this life, we can learn that letting go isn't always a bad thing. Sometimes it allows us to clear out our hearts and minds to prepare for a new blessing, a new story, and a new adventure.

I will always love Ruckus, and I'll never forget him. He is always in my heart. He was sent into my life at that critical moment when I felt lost and lonely. I wish I could have been a better daddy for him. But, he never held any of my failures against me. He loved me unconditionally.

Timmy brought back a lot of the early pains and frustrations of being a puppy. But he also reminded me that there was satisfaction in getting to be with a pup so young and bonding with him. He loved me too. I saw so much excitement in his face. I miss holding him and waking him up every morning to start a new day. I may never see him ever again, but I hope he can forget about me and just live in the moment and be happy until the end of his days.

I will miss him until the end of mine. But, hopefully by the time my own time comes, I will have overcome the fear of letting go.