I Gave My Dog Away
I’m not the first person to move out of their childhood home, I won’t be the last. I’m also not the last to be forced out their home due to massive household debt.
I still live within the bounds of my childhood home. Like most people of my generation, leaving home is an extremely expensive practice, unless you’re fortunate enough to have found a good job and potential career in a decent corporate.
I also have never been able to find a roommate.
One day, Myself, Brother and Mother sat down to figure out how to dig ourselves out of a self imposed debt hole.
After a lot of complaining and a few tears, we resolved to sell our house and move into something smaller and a bit more economical. Partly, because it just made sense having something smaller and easier to manage as a family.
Between myself and the other two, we’re hardly home on weekends and the three of us usually are not home for most of the day and some of the night during the week. Our garden, animals and house hold have suffered through the shift in our lifestyles.
The obvious reason is that the profit from selling the house will cover our little hole and place us back on our path toward global domination.
So, we sold the house and began the weird of constricting twenty-eight years of experience into boxes with limited labels.
The time from sale to taking our last steps in our own house came quickly. But it wasn’t until the day I had to give my dog away that this entire new reality really took hold.
My Friends and Life
I managed to have my loving dog Kira adopted by my girlfriend’s parents, and she seems very happy there and is getting a lot of love.
But, the evening I had to say goodbye to her was one of the worst feelings I’ve had to endure in a while. Saying bye to a friend, a comrade, a family mascot. Yes, I would still see her on weekends and put money toward her food and medical, but, it felt too much like a goodbye to an ill friend.
This moment made leaving a home real for me. The house that I had worked in, on, for and around for the past twenty-five years of my life would be gone. The memories I created near every door, floor, window or counter, I would never be able to reminisce on again. The stimuli of those memories would never again be so easily called upon like they were in the past.
My brother maintained that people “move on”, they don’t always stay in the same place. I agreed, but I feel the reason for us leaving is why the memories will be so much more missed.
We’re not leaving because we want to start a new life, or because we’re investing in more property, we’re leaving because at this point there is no choice. It’s like we’re kidnapping ourselves.
So while Kira and eventually Ruby and Jessy, the cats; Boots and Bubbles, the tortoises, Ezra and Misty and the wildlings that call our yard home will have other lovable humans look after them. I will always miss them and love them, each memory and each experience will be with me forever. Just like each nook and crack in my old house, will always hold a part of me forever.
Who knows maybe I buy it back one day.
Whatever happens, this shift, this move, will be another defining segment in my game. It’s a new adventure that, although not ideal, will be the space of new memories and new experiences and stories. It will, eventually, be home.
Then, just like Kira, I can find the love and happiness in this new space like she has in her new home.