An Apology Letter To All Of The Dogs I’ve Wanted To Adopt But Couldn’t

There’s been something on my mind for a long time now and it’s really starting to become a burden. I’ve spent many long and sleepless nights tossing and turning in my bed, wondering what I would say to you if I ever had the chance. I know that you will probably never be able to fully forgive me but please, hear me out.

We had our first encounter a mere three months ago. I saw you. You saw me. It was love at first sight, or so you thought.

I betrayed you. I shouldn’t have, but I did. I walked into the store and there you were on the back wall. Your plastic three-foot cube of a home made you look tiny and frail. The white walls and wire bottom contrasted against your charcoal black coat. Your warm chocolate eyes were enough to melt my heart. One look at you and my wallet was open. I had to take you out to play with, yet in the end I realized this was just a tease. I sat on the ground as you, a playful and energetic ball of black fluff, frolicked around your new playground. At last, you were no longer confined to your skimpy jail cell and finally felt liberated. You looked at me with eyes full of joy, hoping that I would take you home and give you a new life full of opportunity and puppy treats. Oh how I wish that I could have.

My mother rejected my plea to adopt you. There was nothing more that I wanted that day than to call you mine and give you a loving home. The pain was too much. I couldn’t bear to face you and those chocolate puppy eyes. Guilt oozed from every crevice on my body as I left the store that Sunday afternoon. I can’t even begin to imagine the look on your face when you realized that I wasn’t going to be the one providing you with a forever home.

I went back to the store last week and I couldn’t seem to find you. When I asked one of the workers, they told me that you had been adopted. I don’t know where you are now, but I hope that you have been found by loving humans that will play fetch for hours on end, give you treats when you learn new tricks, and rub your tummy to your heart’s content. With all this in mind, I ask for your forgiveness. Although I may never truly be able to forgive myself, clearing some of this guilt from my conscience would definitely be nice. I am sorry little black lab that sat ever so quietly in the back of the pet store. You didn’t deserve to be isolated and locked up in that tiny crate. No one deserves that and on behalf of myself and all decent human beings, I am sorry and I wish you a happy life outside of the pet store. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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