It's 2:26 on Friday morning and I cannot go to sleep. I can't concentrate on blogging either, I've just been immersed in trying on different tops which I've cut up and worn back to front with a DVF ballet wrap sweater I just can't seem to make work. I've tried on all my unworn shoes and ate a truly disgusting piece of banana cream pie which I bought --though heaven knows why-- at the grocery store while I was avoiding coming home.

I want to do something to keep my mind off tomorrow, or rather, today because today, Thomas goes to his new family.

This is how it went down. I got a call a week ago from my apartment manager, Steve told me there's a law against potentially aggressive breeds and for some bizarre reason, English Bulldogs are on that list. I needed to "remove the animal" or be evicted.

I'm still not sure that was legal, but my lease did say something about dogs over 55 pounds, which both Thomas and Dozer are, though just barely. I didn't want to risk losing Dozer too, so I did what I had to do. I found Thomas a new home.

I didn't want to do it, of course I didn't want to, I wish I could have said "go ahead, evict me" but I can't have an eviction on my application to seminary. They'd toss me out before I was even let in.

I'll be honest as well; he was too much for me. Too strong, too dominant, too stubborn for someone with a chronic pain problem so debilitating that sometimes I can't move my arms or walk across the room.

Even after six weeks of intensive doggy bootcamp --I only paid for two, but the trainer didn't think Thomas was ready after only two weeks. He was a tough nut to crack-- he obeyed the collar, not me.

I never bonded with Thomas the way I did with Dozer and I know it was my fault. I wasn't aggressive enough with him, didn't have the time to take him to the park every day like I did when Dozer was a pup. I love him SO much. but I failed him. I wasn't strong enough.

His new home will be much better than the one he made with me. He'll have a big family with a mother and a father and two adult boys, a couple of dogs to play with who can wrestle just as hard as he does, and a great big yard and tomorrow after a bath and a brush I'll deliver him there.

G'bye Tonkus, my handsomest hound.