11/25/2025
I need someone to build this for me 🤣🤣
Last night, while I was serving dinner to my dogs, my boyfriend gave me an ultimatum: “It’s either me or them. I can’t live like this anymore.”
I just froze there, holding Rex’s food bowl, watching my three rescue dogs waiting quietly for their meal, and I swear I felt my heart split in two.
He said, “They’re just dogs. You love them more than you love me.”
Maybe he’s not entirely wrong. I did spend three weekends building custom bunk beds for them—took countless trips to Home Depot too. I did turn the spare bedroom into their safe space. And yes, my day runs around their feeding times and medication schedules.
But what he’ll never understand is why. Max was rescued from a dumpster, covered in cigarette burns. Daisy spent years chained outside in the freezing cold until her paws were permanently scarred. And Rex? He still trembles around men because of what he survived. I made a promise to each of them: they’d never be abandoned again.
My sister calls me crazy. “You’re really choosing dogs over a relationship? You’ll end up alone with nothing but fur and chew toys.” Even my mom told me to consider rehoming them. But when I was at my lowest—after my divorce, when I couldn’t get out of bed—those dogs were the only ones who stayed by my side.
I know what the “logical” choice would be. But how can I look into Rex’s scared eyes, pull away his blanket, and tell him he’s not worth keeping after everything he’s endured? That wouldn’t just be a choice — it would be a betrayal. 💔
