After Prince Charming died, I often said that I wasn’t afraid of anything because my worst nightmare had happened and I managed to live through it. I had to bury the love of my life.
I faced a lot of things after he died with a laugh and a smile of my face . . . a bad job, a job change, financial uncertainty, Dad’s final illness and his death . . . really . . . this is the worst you can throw at me . . . you can’t scare me . . .
But that changed today when I realized that my worst nightmare and my greatest fear are two different things.
My greatest fear is something happening to Rocky or Millie.
Maybe it’s because I fought for them during the divorce . . . maybe it’s because it’s just the three of us now here at The Little House . . . maybe it’s because I know that I couldn’t have gotten through the dark days after Prince Charming died that I’m so vigilant about them. Are they healthy, are they getting enough exercise, am I feeding them the right things? I make sure they get their shots, I make sure they get all the necessary tests. Their heartworm meds and meds to control fleas are given on time.
But sometimes . . . no matter how hard I try . . . no matter how vigilant I am about every single detail . . . things happen . . . bad things happen . . .
Rocky was attacked by a pit bull this morning while we were out on our morning walk. We were minding our own business walking along a route that we walk every day. We passed a house that we pass every day . . . but today the dog that lives in that house decided she didn’t want us walking past her house and she did something about it. The dog lunged for all three of us (Me, Rocky and Millie) but Rocky put himself between the dog and me and Millie and took one for the team. A lot of the details of the attack are still a blur to me but I remember a lot of cursing (from me) a lot of yelping (from Rocky) and a lot of barking (from Millie). The owner of the dog ran up to us but she couldn’t get the dog to release her grip on Rocky. I remember looking into Rocky’s eyes and seeing how scared he was and I knew I had to do something – anything – to save my baby. Yes, I’m the silly lady that put her hand into a pit bull’s mouth to try and pry her jaws off my dog. It took someone with a stick that looked like an axe handle to get the other dog to release her grip from Rocky’s neck.
The owner apologized profusely, gave me her contact info and assured me she would pay for whatever vet bills I incurred because of the attack. She also assured me that the dog would be destroyed for coming after us. (I’m not quite sure how I feel about the dog being destroyed over this attack . . . I’m still trying to process that part.) She also asked me if I was okay . . . if I had been injured during the attack . . . and I laughed and said that’s the least of my worries right now, but thank you for your concern.
Rocky seemed fine – no gushing blood or obviously serious wounds. Once the dog let go of his neck, he was ready to finish our walk. Which we did . . . just a little slower than normal so I could check him out for any wounds that weren’t easily seen. He seemed to have a goofy smile on his face (Hey, look what I did!) and wouldn’t leave my side. Millie wasn’t hurt at all since Rocky seemed to push her out of the way . . . during the rest of our walk I discovered I have a scrapped knee and a few scrapes on my wrist. The fingers survived being in the mouth of a pit bull without any bruises or scrapes at all.
As soon as I got home, I called Lovely Vet and explained what happened. I told them he didn’t have any obviously serious wounds – no gushing blood or broken bones – but I wanted to make sure Rocky was okay. They told me to bring him in and they’d look him over. Lovely Vet looked him over, assured me that my handsome boy is fine, that the extra skin that Rocky has around his neck saved him from very serious injuries. His neck is going to be stiff a sore for a while and he’s going to hate me for having to shove pills down his throat for the next week or so . . . but he certainly lived up to his name. Rocky is a fighter that doesn’t give up.
So he’s resting . . . a tad uncomfortably with a sore neck and a sore tushy from the shots he got . . . Millie will only leave his side to come see what I’m doing . . . and Mommy has been checking on him about every 10 minutes. It could have been much worse . . . I realize that I’m blessed that I didn’t lose Rocky today . . . I learned today what Rocky is willing to do to protect Mommy and Sissy . . . I learned today that there isn’t much I wouldn’t do for those two.
I fully expected to have a complete melt down over this but haven’t yet . . . the full impact of what happened hasn’t hit me yet. But it will, I’m sure. It’s gonna be a long weekend.
By the way, I just did an inventory of my injuries . . . I have a scrapped knee, a few scrapes on my left wrist, my legs are sore from planting myself and trying to pull Rocky and Millie away from the dog. My fingers are sore from tugging on the other dog’s mouth. My back is sore from being pulled across the ground after the dogs knocked me down. There’s a few spots of blood on my shirt, a swipe of doggie poo on my leg (I always clean up after the dogs when they poo and I had a bag of poo with me) and a few grass stains on the back of my shirt.
Life here is certainly never boring.