This time last night I was starting to make dinner. It was a typical holiday Monday. Relaxing, a little bit of working, hanging out outside….it was great. After recovering from the stomach flu pretty much completely on Sunday, Monday was…great. And then at about 6pm last night, the greatness turned into the suckiest day ever.
There were some kids walking by our kitchen window (our house sits on the corner and the sidewalk runs along our kitchen window) and Will, our dog, barked. One bark. Sweet Pea said, as she’d been taught, “Will, no!” At which point, Will lunged across the kitchen, knocked her down, and attacked.
I had to physically pull his snarling, growling, biting face and body off of my four-year-old and drag him outside. She has bites and scratches on her back, her stomach, the top of her head, and less than 1/4″ from her eye. She’ll be fine. No permanent, serious damage done other than the trauma. Which I pray will fade.
Super Dad took Will back to the shelter. He’s on a 10-day bite hold and will be, I’m sure, humanely euthanized. I am whirling with emotions and when I stop to think about it, to think about her, to think about him, to think about how by the Grace of God she was not severely wounded or killed, I’m a bawling mess of tears and blubbering. Conflicting emotions, mother guilt, and feeling guilty because I am heartbroken. It sucks. There’s no other way to describe it.
It’s going to be a long, slow recovery of emotions. And to get over the guilt. Even though I know, I know, we did the right thing, the only thing we could do to make sure our children were safe, it still hurts. And to think about what could have been, how I could be writing this from my daughter’s hospital bedside instead of from my desk at home, leaves me struggling for air.
Tough choices. Right choices. They are never easy when the heart is involved.