Between a Rock and a Hard Place

*Possible trigger if you’ve ever had a traumatic experience in a medical setting*

Oh, Mommas. It has been. a. week.

Prior to the start of every week, my husband and I have implemented what we call our “Sunday Night Huddle”. Every Sunday evening, we sit down and briefly, but intentionally, talk about what we have planned for the week and what we’d like to accomplish. It gives us an opportunity to update our calendars and really be on the same page throughout the following 7 days. It, generally, seems to work well for us. Obviously, there are the occasional, unavoidable ”interruptions”. However, this week, they seemed to continually surface.

This last week, we forgot to put on our calendar that our 13 month-old would end up with a stomach-flu bug, only for his sister to follow suit 3 days later; which made for missed time at work and a very exhausted momma (and daddy). During my daily, morning prayer, I try to always remember to thank God for my family’s health and safety; and it’s weeks like this last one, that are a good reminder to never take it for granted. Although we’re tired (and so looking forward to spring), I’m happy to report that we all seem to be on the mend and our washer and dryer work really well.

We also forgot to pencil in our latest heart ache.

Almost five and a half years ago, I was elated when I had finally convinced my husband (boyfriend at the time) to allow us to get a puppy. I grew up having dogs, mostly hunting breeds, but as a young adult, I always wanted a small-breed dog. One of my friends turned me on to an add in the paper that advertised “teddy bear puppies” for sale and I still remember the excitement at the utter possibility of me owning one of those precious little balls of fur. After a thoughtful conversation, my husband agreed to go meet with the woman. Mapquest sent us on a 2 hour-long trip (one way), we fell in love with this sweet little boy and decided to take him home. I will never forget, on the car ride home, promising him that I would give him a life filled with love and happiness. At the time, we didn’t have human babies, so he undoubtedly, and very quickly, became our sweet baby, whom we named Jarvis (after one of our favorite Marvel Comics, “Iron Man”).

We didn’t haven’t him for more than 6 weeks when my husband called me at work and told me that “something had happened to the dog”. With a panic in his voice, he explained that he had been working at the computer and Jarvis had laid down behind his computer chair. My husband had rolled back and thought that he may have rolled onto one of his legs. He said he had whimpered for a bit, limped around, but seemed to be ok. It became a “let’s watch it and see” kinda thing. Weeks went by and he seemed totally fine; we actually had forgotten that it happened. It was probably 3 weeks after the original incident that I was at my parent’s house, literally right about to click submit on my Nursing School application, that he jumped off of my lap and upon landing on the ground, started yelping like I had never heard a dog yelp in my entire life. My mom flew down the stairs like Wonder Woman, to our aid (at this point I don’t know who was a bigger mess - me or the dog). A few x-rays, tests, and lots of Vet bills later, we learned that Jarvis - was not a teddy bear, he in fact was a Yorkie mix - and he had a fracture in his “elbow” and would ideally need orthopedic surgery to fix it. However, they presented us with a few other options:

1. We can put him down

2. We can amputate (We were told that dogs are really 3-legged creatures that are born with an extra leg)

3. We can do nothing and see if it heals, with the likelihood that he would develop some pretty gnarly arthritis.

It felt as though we were stuck between a rock and a hard place.

After more research and discussion, it seemed the obvious (and super expensive) choice to us, was to proceed with the surgery.

A few days later we took Jarvis in to have the surgery. I was told that I would receive a call when he was all done with the procedure, and headed to recovery. So it seemed strange to me that just an hour later, my phone was ringing. The Veterinary Surgeon was on the other end. The exact conversation is a total blur; all I remember is her telling me that as they began the procedure, Jarvis coded (his heart rate dropped to 8 beats per minute). They had to abort the surgery and he had to quickly be woken up. She told me that, thankfully, it seemed that he had recovered and was doing well. Oh my goodness, I was a mess. I remember asking when I could come see him. I went over to see him, and once again, we discussed options.

And there we were again, between a rock and a hard place.

After more deliberation, discussion, prayers, and trust in our veterinary team, Jarvis had his leg repaired the following day. He did really well and it’s been a non-issue since the healing. Thank Goodness !

Now, fast forward 5 years and we have a whole different set of issues. What I haven’t mentioned is that Jarvis’ leg hasnt been our only challege with him. Despite various efforts, he has never been potty-trained.

Friends, I feel as though we have tried just about everything. To name a few: we let him out about every hour, and do treats after pottying. We’ve tried diapers, potty pads, bells, etc, none of which have worked.

Recently, I mentioned our problem on Facebook as a desperate cry for help, and a friend from high school reached out to me to give me pointers on how to pretty much “re-train” him to go potty. We tried it. Nothing. The same Facebook post encouraged a college friend of mine to reach out to inform me of chiropractic medicine and how it can be advantageous for dogs who have pottying issues. Yes, Mommas, I had a chiropractor coming into my home to adjust my dog’s back ! Still, we were finding accidents, which have caused us to shampoo our carpets, on average, three times a week. I‘ve known 4 separate Yorkie owners, all of them with our same issue - their Yorkie is not fully potty-trained. So, here is the diagnosis we’ve came up with: He’s a Yorkie. Great.

This, on top of everything else that us momma’s tackle, has been enough to send me right over the edge. There is a certain amount of pride (and OCD) that I take in being able to provide a nice, clean home for my family. If I feel that is being interrupted too often, it brings a sense of stress to my life that is, honestly, almost crippling. I love my dog to pieces, but how much is too much ? Where is the line ? Is it over ok to “give up” for the sake of my sanity ?

I reached out to a woman that I know that has Yorkies. She has agreed to do a “trial run“ of adding Jarvis to her family. And, bless her heart, she says that despite all of the issues that Yorkies seem to have with accidents, she has an unconditional love for them anyway (I’m missing that gene as a part of my DNA).

I think of the life that he would have in that environment, and how happy he could be. Still, the thought of “giving him up” (or is it giving up on him?) is almost unbearable. As I‘m blogging tonight, he lays right next to me, like he always does. It’s almost as if it’s a reminder of his loyalty, and a huge slap in the face as I feel reminded of my disloyalty. I think of the promise that I made to him, on the day we brought him into our lives; am I breaking that promise or fulfilling it ?

And here I find myself, once again, between a rock and a hard place. One that brings great sadness and lots, and lots, of tears.

Mommas, I pray, that like me, when you’re experiencing these “rock and hard place” moments in your life, that you find peace and comfort in praying to and confiding in your Heavenly Father. Although your scenario or exact details may differ from mine; He listens and He hears us. And I pray, for you and I, that we may find peace and resolution in these difficult times.

P.S. ... could you pray for us ?

Until next time..

Your,

(Conflicted) Christian Momma