I went to a women's spiritual retreat last weekend. It had been several years since I had been to one and it was wonderful to have downtime by myself which is rare. Even if it doesn't involve a television.
Before I even made it home from said retreat, I ended up with my family at a dog adoption event and they had already picked out their choice: a "mostly" house-trained dog of unknown age but still chewing like a puppy.
What was I doing there?
I had three faces looking at me, begging me to take this not full grown dog home. My gut told me, no. I will be the one to take care of it most of the time and have to direct the others to care for it as well. I hesitated for a few minutes while I learned the facts. If we signed on the dotted line, which was our only choice at that moment, that dog was ours, forever. I really wanted an out if it didn't fit in with the other four legged friends already at our house.
I said no.
This was a huge moment. I went with my gut. I had to handle being the "heavy" and the subsequent fallout. Mallory cried and rode home with George. Riley got in my car but wouldn't talk to me and she is not even that crazy about our current animals.
But that was okay. It was hard to say no, and I have really only learned to say yes recently to new opportunities so I'm practicing boundaries in this area and won't always get it right. But for now, I got it right. I am relieved not to have another being in the house to take care of right now. I have my hands full.
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