I took a chance and applied for a job.

Got that job.

Hated the commute, conditions, and pay of said job.

Quit that job with a newfound appreciation for my lifestyle, household, and responsibilities.

Not a complete wash, but a good lesson.

Then...we adopted a puppy. A beautiful black lab mix with a fiery personality.

Long story short - the cats rejected this new lifestyle. One cat would not come out of hiding or eat for 4 days.

We had to give the puppy back to the Humane Society. Puppy gets adopted to another family in less than 24 hours...but he was my puppy. And I miss my puppy.

Took that chance with a puppy and it didn't work.

And instead of shrugging it off like the job, this one is lingering. The weather is nice and so everyone is out there walking their good doggos. I can't help but feel this hot envy. I will never get to boop his snoot. I will never hear his funny little sleeping howls. Those are now only for his new family. And the envy gets more chewy.

We know this is all for the best. We know that we're not the only people who had to - regrettably and with a broken heart, sobbing - give their pet back to the shelter. We did the responsible thing. We did it for the sake of our cats. We did it for the sake of the puppy that needed more room than we could provide.

But I am back to that previously newfound appreciation I felt when I quit my job with the added bonus of intense heartbreak. I miss Banner, you guys. I love that pupper. I know that his home will give him all of the space that he needs to become a kick ass doggo.

Thor is out of hiding and eating. Loki took the opportunity to become the alpha...but Thor is coming back to be being himself. Loki is in for a surprise. All will be back to what it was. 

We are maintaining some of the new habits we formed when we adopted Banner - cleaning more often, keeping counter tops clear, and cleaning up my desk space because it still looks like a scene from Fallout 4...I got to paint my nails for the first time in 7 weeks. I cleaned my fridge. 

Out of all this, taking a chance is hard. The possibility of failure scares the absolute shit out of some folks. The amount of time, money, emotional investment, and effort lost is enough to keep people away from going outside of a comfort zone. I don't regret quitting my job and am super thankful that I could/did. I don't regret giving Banner back because I know it was the right thing to do, but the decision still hurts. Nothing that we did with Banner was a waste. What we learned about dogs in training, discovering a whole new level of patience, and keeping shit CLEAN are still valuable and I am grateful.

And this hurt is temporary. This hurt is is shared by many who have been in this position. The empathy we've received from our pet owning friends, our fostering friends, and our rescuing friends has been uplifting. 

This won't stop me from taking chances in the future. This won't keep me from going outside my comfort zones.

Because this pain - as well as the guilt of relief of going back to the same-old - is temporary.