The day started like any other day: the Urbilly lost in the garage tinkering on the weed whacker I broke-again, the little guy jumping up in down in his crib yelling mommy repetitively and intermittently changing to cars and monkey( boy I love that kid), the old fat whiny cat screeching relentlessly at the bedroom door for food, and my head with a bit of throb. Next up breakfast and Sesame Street, a conversation with my mother on the phone about my pain-in-the-ass husband and the bullshit air conditioner in my Jeep, a hop on over to the Y for H's Kindergym class, a walk on the track for me, and home in time for lunch. After feeding my my brood, fat cat included, 'twas naptime for all except me.
After a little house work and laying H back down 5 times I was able to do a little gardening and set up the swim stuff for the afternoon activity. Once I realized (he was yelling insistently and banging on the wall and I could hear him outside, but my husband didn't hear a thing, huh) that H just was not going to sleep anymore outside we went to play in the water. What a lovely day, not a cloud in the sky, the little guy having a grand ol' time with his little splashy water adventure made-in-china plastic pool thing. Gee whiz, ladies, what a perfectly peachy afternoon. I thought to myself, Donna you should take some video on your phone of this glorious moment and just as I looked down I heard a noise...
Now, ladies. This is where all kidding stops and I am about to write one of the more serious posts than I have ever written....
What I saw quickly became of one my worst nightmares.
In all seriousness only a parent can imagine what ran through my mind during these next few seconds and minutes that I will try to recount for you as rawly as I possibly can.
As I looked up I saw that the neighbor's dog was in their back yard. I began to say hello and he looked at me, looked over at H and began to charge. Yes, fucking aggressively charge at my tiny defenseless 2 year old precious little boy. The dog was about 4o feet or so away and I was about 10 feet from H. Horrible things ran through my mind...I began to yell, to scream, "NOOO! ANGEL!!! NOOOO!!!" and run as fast I have ever run I would think, yelling, and screaming the whole way. As we both approached my little guy, the dog suddenly stopped, confused as to exactly what was going on. Poor dumb animal. In that moment I snatched up my little guy and began to yell fiercely and show that fucking dog my dominance. Mother fucker this is my fucking yard! Fuck you!
While this was happening only the neighbor's 13 year old daughter was present to see it as far as I could tell. And I'm pretty sure she saw the whole thing. The owner of the dog was no where during the even and really only came after it all took place.
"Your dog charged my son," I growled. "You've got to understand this can't happen again!"
She had every excuse for the dog. He's not used to little kids, he thought the dog hat that your son was wearing was a real dog, it was because you were holding him like that. Listen lady, I was not holding him. He was defenseless playing in the yard innocently like a fucking 2 year old should on a lovely afternoon such as this when your dog aggressively charged him. At this point I could say nothing else but "This can't happen again," over and over again.
Soon she took the dog into the yard hanging her head in shame. Really she couldn't even look at me. After at least 20 minutes to think it over and a call to my dad I had made a decision of what exactly I would do. A hard one, but the right one. I had even considered one more chance, but knowing that the man would not agree I knew what I had to do. What kind of parent would I be if I didn't do it?
Honestly. This is the 5th incident of the dog charging. He charged our old dog who just days after we moved here. He then charged a guest at my house out having a smoke at night. He charged me one night and I even blogged about it (do read this post linked here as it contains background on the story of the neighbors). And he charged at the Redneck once when we were carrying in groceries. I mean really now. You leave me with little recourse but to report this dog that you obviously can't control.
Not only does this dog shit in my yard, but it charges at my family and friends anytime it is off the leash. I have great understanding of the love of animal that is a pet, enough that it honestly pains me a bit to have to do the right thing. I would hate to see someone to loose their pet, but my family's safety totally overrides any empathy I may have for the situation from their point of view. I must report the dog.
In the dog's defense I will say that he is a pound dog that was supposedly abused and had a rough life and i have a lot of respect for people who want to help these animals, but dog is only as good as it's owner. If you can't control the animal you will have to face the consequences.
In the morning I will call the township hall and find the appropriate steps needed to file a complaint. Hopefully the issue can be solved with a pen, or maybe a fence at their expense. But if it isn't I will not think twice about making sure this menace of a dog is removed from this home.
Nothing will sway me from filing the complaint. Nothing.
Don't mess with the bull, bitch, you'll get the horns!
And by horns I mean complete and total recourse to the fullest extent of the law, which is on my side by the way by the way.
Do not fuck with me po'dunk, I know the rules, I pay attention, and I will fuck you up.
Grrrrr...
Donna Freakin' Fuckin' Reed
grrrr...
Read the follow up posting...HERE
I am totally with you. I love animals as well but there is a very loud and clear line.
ReplyDeleteNo matter the animal, the owner should have control over it at all times.
I could *maybe* put up with it charging my husband, my dog, my friend, my self. But my kid? No fucking way.
Scariest shit ever. A responsible dog owner would OFFER to put up a fence, make sure their animal had manners and such and APOLOGIZE! I myself have rehomed my anxious dog the day he turned and ran at the children next door. No 2nd thoughts.He had to move. I LOVE my animals but I could never live with that blood on my hands. Stick to your guns.
ReplyDeleteI'd rather see a dog put down for "possibly" being dangerous and in a humane manner than have to strangle the mother fucker with my bare hands because it tried to harm my child.
ReplyDeleteHope you are keeping that wicked mace handy, because if things keep on the track they are, you may just need it.
it is my hope that dog is put down before he actually follows through on his aggression and attacks a child.