That Horrifying Moment When Your Dog Attacks
By SunshineyDay on July 16, 2014
I had this wonderful plan all worked up about how my day would go yesterday. I met another lady online who homeschools and lives very close to me. Her son and my oldest son are the same age, and I have been pining for an adult who lives nearby that will come and have a cup of coffee with me and chat on a lonely morning. We planned to get together for a play date and a visit to see if we hit it off. Little did I know, my day was going to take a horrifying turn for the worse. My day came to a screaching half when our dog attacked.
I haven't had the best experiences with dog ownership. When my son was just one, he was bitten by my 5 year old dog who was my "baby" before my huband and I had a baby of our own. We also had another dog that started to get very aggressive with me that we just couldn't keep anymore. Because of this, it has been six years since we have had a dog in our lives. My husband has been wanting another one for probably six years.
We had an agreement: once we bought a house, we could own a dog again. We just bought a house, so we decided it was time to get a dog. We would try again. We went down to the animal shelter because I love the idea of saving a life. We picked out the cutest foxhound ever. My husband sat and pulled on her legs, touched her ears, messed with her treats, and we introduced her to my aunt's dog who we visit with frequently. She passed all the tests. The shelter also tests dogs to see if they are a good candidate for adoption. She passed those as well. We brought her home.
She had been rolling around in feces at the shelter, so we gave her a bath right away, treated her for fleas and ticks (and removed a super huge nasty tick from her ear), took her to the vet to have her stiff hips looked at, and bought the best food for her we could find. We could see her ribs through her coat that was falling out in clumps everytime you touched her. She had sad eyes but I knew she just needed to be loved and taken care of. Everyday I swept up mountains of hair, I cleaned up accidents, and we started training her. My kids would walk around, so proud that we saved her life. "That was the best day of her life," Turbo would say, "The day she got adopted!"
About a month later, her training was finally starting to pay off, you couldn't see her ribs anymore, and she was turning out to be a great playmate for the kids. She could run now, and her hair stopped falling out and developed a wonderful sheen to it. I was always watching her like a hawk around the kids; even when our one year old would pull her ears or grab her skin with both hands and yank, she never even growled at him. We all started falling in love with her.
Fast forward to yesterday. I spent the morning running around my house anxiously awaiting our visitors. I made coffee, made sure we had cold water in the fridge, swept, wiped all the sand off the couch (it accumulates everywhere in our house!), and tidied up. We even had fresh muffins ready so we could have a snack together if they stayed long enough. I was nervous, but ready.
Our new friends came over, let's call them June and Peter. June was so warm and talkative. We had a great chat about schools, homeschooling, our backgrounds (we both lived in NV for a time), and life in general. I genuinely enjoyed talking to her. Even our kids (and whose kids don't fight?) seemed to be getting along really well. Peter realized our boys like legos and superheroes, and he seemed sold. They played together really loudly, but were having a good time. I was so glad I had invited her over even though I usually don't invite complete strangers into my home.
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