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The puppies are supposed to go back on Thursday.  I was asked to watch them for 12 days, and due to their illness (and therefore unfitness for adoption) they missed the "super adoption day" at the Humane Society, and as a consequence, we've had them for six weeks today.  

Around week three, we started contemplating keeping one of them.  But one puppy is hard to manage and so then we pondered keeping two.  Some days that seemed right – they are so sweet and responsive.  Other days though, it seemed like something hard.  I have spent a lot of time with them; training them, caring for them, just being with them.  I'm quite attached.  Yet I kept asking myself, "What could that time be invested in instead?"  

Around the beginning of this week, I began to feel pretty weary.  (At week 5 we agreed – only one dog).  Mid-way through this week, I was really seeking God about this little dog.  God whispered, What do you want to do?. It's true, we could give him a fantastic home.  He loves running across the acres and he enjoys all the other animals.  He would have a great life. No, what do you want?

I want to be a writer.  I want to finish painting my barn.  I want to visit my daughter in Seattle.  I need to finish a water line project that has dragged on all summer.  I want to do a better job of encouraging my friends and hearing from God more.  Honestly, I don't want a puppy right now. 

As soon as I leveled with myself, I realized how much I really don't want another responsibility.  And when I told the Humane Society rep this and I made arrangements for them to go back on Thursday for their next adoption event, I realize I feel relief.  It's like something inside me is saying, "I can make it until Thursday."  

I didn't realize until I stepped into the waters of a "no" …

How tired I was.  How ready I am to have it over.  How close I was to making a wrong decision.  

How just because I can meet a need and do a great job and really make a difference in someone else's life … that doesn't necessarily mean that I am supposed to do it.  

Sometimes someone else is supposed to jump in and fill in that gap.