By Stephanie Abbajay

It sort of amazes me that at this stage in my life, I still make mistakes. Not mistakes with finances or family or friendships, but well-meaning mistakes that sting the heart. Last weekend, I made a mistake that left me speechless and ashamed at my own lack of judgment.

It’s no secret that I am a dog person while my husband is not. Dave Stine’s favorite line, when asked why he doesn’t like dogs, is: “I love dogs, especially if they’re cooked just right.” That line never gets old. Dave did not grow up around dogs, except when he was very young and his mother raised St. Bernards. She claims that his hatred of dogs is based on his being swarmed by exuberant St. Bernard puppies when he was only two-years-old. Dave was terrified, and she surmises that that is where his dislike comes from. (Dave says he has no memory of the incident.)

Whatever the origin, this has been a battle for as long as Dave and I have known each other. I want a dog, he doesn’t. In fairness, we shouldn’t have a dog. We travel at least once a month for days or weeks at a time, and are gone for over a month every summer. We are simply not home enough to take care of a dog. I know that.

But last weekend, while waiting for the Christmas tree place to open in Alton, the kids and I went to the 5As Animal Shelter to kill some time. I told the kids we were only going to look. As we walked the aisle of the shelter, the dogs went nuts, jumping and barking and clawing at the gates. But at the end of the aisle, in the very last cage, was Bam, a brown-eyed five-year-old Chow-Shepherd mix. Bam was lying quietly, not barking or moving, just looking at us with a fixed and steady gaze. We fell in love immediately.

Bam had been at the shelter for two years, longer than any dog there. Clearly, he knew he wasn’t going to be adopted and so his demeanor was one of quiet resignation. After the slightest hesitation (“What will Dave say?”) we adopted him.

One hour after arriving home I knew I had made a terrible mistake. The kids loved him and I loved him but what was I going to do with him when I went to Chicago this week on business? And next month, and the month after that and the month after that? Did I get a dog so I could keep him chained up in the yard all day? Or locked in a pen? Or boarded? And what about the cats and the free-range chickens he was lunging after? What had I done?

I had made a terrible mistake. I had acted out of compassion, only to realize that my current lifestyle was not one in which a dog would get the attention he needed. Especially a wonderful dog like Bam, who deserved to be loved and cared for properly. I had read the Dog Whisperer’s books and I knew better. Still, I had acted foolishly and irresponsibly, and I was ashamed of myself.

The 5As shelter has a policy that you have one week to bring a dog back. I brought Bam back the next morning. I am not embarrassed to admit that I cried most of Friday night as I agonized over my decision. And I cried when I took Bam back, and told the shelter people I was ashamed that I had not thought it through more rationally. I donated Bam’s adoption fee, so that hopefully someone will look at that wonderful dog, see that his fee has already been paid, and take him home and love him and care for him and be there for him, in the way that I can’t.

And my kids? I talked to them at length about what it takes to care for a dog, what a dog like Bam deserves, and how I had made a terrible mistake. I told them how sorry I was and how sometimes even the best intentions aren’t really the right thing to do. I think they understood. They also saw how sorry and upset I was. I hate to use this horribly clichéd expression, but it was a teaching moment, for them and for me. Unfortunately, it was Bam who suffered the most from the lesson.

Willa cried giant tears for a while and, on the way to the shelter to return Bam, drew pictures of giant sad faces, which she ripped out of her notebook and handed to me in a steady stream all the way to Alton. Oskar was visibly upset at first but I think he understood the situation. And, never one to miss an opportunity, he told me I could make it up to them by buying them candy and games from Game Stop. They recovered quickly.

I recovered less quickly. It breaks my heart to think of poor Bam, that wonderful dog, about to start his third year at the shelter. I feel horrible and am sorry for my irrational behavior. We all make mistakes, I know. I just hope my mistake leads to the right person adopting Bam, and all the other dogs that need loving homes.

Stephanie Abbajay is a writer for the Jersey County Journal.