We told someone recently that we were not only leaving our dog as we go to Ecuador, but we are giving her away. "But she's your pack--you have to take her with you."
It was Old Yeller or Where the Red Fern Grows or something I saw as a kid, where I'm pretty sure it ended up with the kid, shedding tears, having to shoot his own faithful dog to put him out of his misery or something. Yep, that's me, except it feels more like kicking her out of the back of a moving pickup truck as we approach the Canadian border or something. "Sorry, old girl, no dogs allowed..."
But dogs are rather a luxury in Ecuador. And they don't and can't go everywhere with you as dogs here do. They're just not considered the best friend they are here. And dog food is the same price there as here, which means it costs about the same to feed a dog as a person. And, well, we couldn't easily travel or...OK, now it just sounds like rationalization. All right, it is just rationalization.
But in absolute hindsight and unjustified justification for kicking Tess out of the back of the truck, she is now with her former owners who get her out more often, has another dog to play with, and already seems happier than she has been ever since our first child came home from the hospital.
What? Quit looking at me like that. It's the right thing to do!