We've had to find Hunter a new home and everyone here is miserable. After waiting years to bring home a new family member and getting used to his romping about, we're gutted. It's far too quiet in the house today.
Why in the world would we give up such a gorgeous fellow?
Two acres. A boy to play with. Constant supervision. What could possibly go wrong? Two words, Black Locusts. Our property is dotted with these big Gothic looking trees and Hunter was forever picking up the twigs and bits of bark and eating them. The thing is, they're poisonous. We'd manage to trade the twigs for treats, or pull them out of his mouth but he'd still manage to swallow them. We quickly became concerned that our home was hazardous for the little thing. I couldn't live with myself if living here made him sick. So the very hard decision was made that perhaps we were not the perfect family for Hunter. I wish we were.
What makes it even harder was that Hunter was starting to get the hang of playing nicely with D over the past few days. The two were really starting to hit it off. Saying goodbye has been especially hard on the littlest Knickertwist. D was a very brave kidlet and said his "Goodbyes" and agreed that Hunter going to a safe home was the best thing we could do for him.
What a horrible lesson to learn at 8... that sometimes the very best thing to do feels like the absolute worst and sometimes it even breaks your heart :(
We've told his new family that if for any reason things don't work out he's to come directly back to us. I really hope he's happy and safe but part of me (the very selfish part) hopes he's a holy terror and they call tomorrow to bring him back.