Friday, January 23, 2009

In return for the favor

It's been a week since the ruling. While I am proud of it as a good solid victory for the community,in many ways I can't help feeling as though everybody else won, not me, not Brindi. At least for now. 


A very kind person told me tonight on the phone - and we never finished our chat - that they were at the SPCA shelter on Christmas day when the blackout happened. After helping out at the shelter for a while, this person later decided to hold Brindi close and look into her eyes to comfort her. Her beautiful eyes, like almond jewels, expressing such a range of thought and emotion. There's so much she needs to be comforted for. I am sure it was a big comfort, at such a frightening time, after so many months away from home. I was so grateful to hear this, and at the same time, it brought everything back into painful focus, how sensitive Brindi is to all these things and the toll it is taking on her. And the toll it takes on me to know this, and be helpless to do anything about it.

I can't stop sobbing about this now, right now, I cannot stop crying, it is so awful. It was so incredibly kind for them to do that and let me know. But realizing yet again what is like for Brindi, all alone the rest of the time... and here's me, sleeping the whole day on Christmas, so I didn't have to be aware, to feel anything, then finding out about the blackout the next day. 

Words cannot do it justice, how sad this makes me feel. 
Every night is like that for her. She needs love, she needs to be held and comforted. She used to have such nightmares. I can't imagine what they're like now.

I will never be the same, nor will she.
If they kill her... I failed. I already failed; I can't get her out, even though I won. I waited over five months to go to court; I did all I could, I worked so hard to help my lawyer, and I risked everything. Nothing should be preventing her from coming home now. Nothing but unfounded fear and speculation, and whatever else is going on behind closed doors that neither I nor my lawyer can find a way to stop, now, this minute. 

 Tonight, and every night after this one, all dogs living in HRM homes are safe from being seized and killed without warning. Their owners will be able to take their case before a judge, within a month or two at most, without the expense of a lawyer, without need of separation from their loved one.  

But my loved one is not safe, she's not well, and she's not with me, where she belongs, where she wants to be, where I want her so much, to look into her eyes and hold her. 

I don't expect thanks for changing the law. All I ask in return is for Brindi to come back home, so I can stop sobbing at 3 am, and she can feel secure and loved once again. Then I can celebrate a victory in full.
And Linda and Richard can celebrate the Christmas they postponed until Brindi comes home.