I had been dating my college boyfriend for about 4.5 years when we decided to move from San Diego to Laguna Niguel. We mainly did this because he had a job offer up there and thought we'd set up shop "forever" i.e. 11 months. This blow off has about a million blow offs in one, but I'll try to stick to the dog story. So, we move up there and look for places that accept dogs because we both really wanted a dog. I had really wanted a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel but they're like $1500 and I was still in college and he was just working his first job out of college so we weren't quite there yet. We went to pet stores ALL the time (I know, the worst place to buy a dog) and on one of the trips we saw two Cavalier mixes, a girl and a boy. We both wanted a girl so we played with her in the little play space and she was a lunatic, running around, biting us, real squirmy. So we were like, she's not for us, let's check out the boy even though we don't want a boy. He was a calm little angel that just cuddled with us. So the now ex-bf looks at me and is like, do you want him? He's cheaper than a full breed, but looks exactly like one. So, he buys him for me (it was my Valentine's Day present). We get the dog home, he's a lunatic, but I love him to pieces (again, there's a million blow offs here).
So, 9 months later, said ex-boyfriend is working as a loan officer, making shit-tons of money and being a big fat douche bag with his wallet full of cash. We house hunt, he buys a house, I help him move into said house, but know my stuff is never moving there. So before we move my stuff we have "the talk" about how things are just not working out (we had sex two times in that whole year, he was telling his work friends I was overweight, when they'd meet me people would say straight to my face, oh, you're not what I pictured, he said you were heavier, blah, blah, blah). So we agree that I won't move into the house, but I can keep the apartment. I hated the OC so I was like, I'm just going to move back to LA with my family and figure out my life plan (I had just graduated from college). So I move out of the apartment and we decide to do joint custody at this point because we were kind of in limbo, we had been together for so long we thought maybe we just needed to take some time and regroup. I move up to LA with my parents with my pup in tow, drive back down to Orange County to drop him off at the ex's the following week. The next week he's supposed to do the same as I did the prior week but calls and says his mom is in town for Thanksgiving and really wants to see the dog-- can he keep him for another week? Sure.
Then the next week comes and he says, this is kind of a pain (um, you haven't driven anywhere yet!) and not fair for the dog, so why don't you ask your parents what they think about having a dog and if you want him then it's your choice, but I'd love to keep him. I talk to my parents and they're like, he's your dog, of course you can keep him (a few chewed walls and doors later they might have changed their mind, but at this point they were on board). So I call him and am like, my parents said it's no problem for me to keep him, so I'll take him. He gets pissed. Like, fit of rage pissed. How could you be so selfish?! Your life isn't conducive to having a dog! (I'm not really sure what that meant because it's not like I was homeless living in a cardboard box. I was already working at a new job and living in a house with three other people, how is that not dog worthy?) I needed to rethink my decision. I was like, fuck you, you said the decision was mine and now you're saying it's not?! I was livid. Screaming on the phone, scaring my family and the whole nine yards. So I get off the phone and am like, I'm going and getting my dog. My parents were like, you can't drive, you're too emotional, you need to sleep on it. So I said, fine.
As soon as everyone went to work the next day I drove down to Orange County. One of the ex's selling points was that he had a yard that the dog could play in and my parents just have a little patch of grass, because they live in a condo. Well, I get there and the dog is locked in the garage. So much for all that yard! So I jump the gate to the side yard, pop off the screen on the window of the garage door and crawl in. Walked out the door with my dog in tow (it was also his first birthday which I was real pissed about too). I went to the apartment (we still had it for the rest of that month) and hung out with the puppy and then the ex calls. So he's apologizing for being so irrational the night before, that we needed to get together and talk about things..... So I was like, thanks for the apology, but I already solved the problem, I have the dog. He told me I was a psycho bitch, I told him to fuck himself and that was that. I had my baby back! (see the adorable picture of Luca above)
I'm somewhat of a serial monogamist (which means I have A LOT of blow off stories) so I've had to get over a few heartaches, but this has been my longest relationship to date and the easiest to get over. After the shit went down with my dog, I was over it. Don't fuck with my baby. Now, I know how mom's feel when they actually birth their babies.