I'm sitting in the hospital with my 12 year old son. He suffered a pretty serious dog bite, and so my husband and I have been waiting for stitches for the last 5 hours.
Two hours into this wait, I thought I'd work on my blog, but instead I just sat here and stared at a blank screen, my mind utterly empty of anything to say. What a horrible day.
We have a couple dogs, and one was a rescue. He has had a truly horrific life, and we got him when our other dog passed from complications of cancer. He had awful allergies, was terribly underweight, and looked like he needed to put on a few pounds. He helped us heal, and we felt like he was a member of the family.
A year ago, he snapped at one of my kids. It wasn't a big deal, but it scared me. He's a very big dog. We really debated on what to do...it was that gray area of not horrible behavior, but definitely a warning sign. We watched him, but I just wasn't sure what to do. He didn't do it again. In fact, he returned to the happy go lucky dog that we had come to love.
Fast forward a year. I'm on the phone with my brother, and suddenly all I hear is screaming in that tone that sends every mother's blood cold. There's screaming, and then there's screaming.
My son fed him dinner. The dog has never been food aggressive. He gave no warning when my son pet him. He just bit him. He tore his nose almost in half, and deeply punctured his cheek. Now, he's sitting in front of me with 15 stitches in his nose, and 5 in his cheek. We're waiting for the Ear, Nose, and Throat doctor to come in to talk about the cartilage in his nose. It seems it was damaged too, just as I suspected from the 5 hour nosebleed. An inch higher and two inches to the left, he could have lost an eye.
So what did we do wrong?
When we got Bruce, we did not know he was abused. According to his owners, they'd had him since he was a puppy. However, a few months ago, our lab managed to break our fence and they ran off on a merry journey. The dog catcher picked them up, and when we got them back, we found out about Bruce's painful past.
We are Bruce's fifth home. Two of his previous homes starved him so badly that criminal prosecution was pursued. It explained some of his neurotic tendencies such as his freaking out if you walked by his crate with a stick. He was deeply neurotic always worrying, and expressing this by pacing constantly, and if you finally got him to just lay down and be still, he'd chew obsessively on his feet.
But he seemed ok! We had no warning that this would happen.
Yet, here's my son, possibly looking at reconstructive surgery for my decision to bring this dog into my home. So what does this mean?
I really don't know.
Are all rescues a bad idea? You never know what you're getting. I am a testament to that. Yet, there are so many dogs that have nothing but neglect as their past. Even some abused dogs can get past it, and leave happy lives with their new families. But is it worth the risk? Would I do it again? At least while I had children at home? How about ever?
I don't know, and I feel like I'm saying I don't know a lot.
And what about Bruce?
I don't feel like this is Bruce's fault. I lay that squarely at the feet of his previous abusers. But he can't live in my house, no matter how much my injured son still wants him there. Can I rehome him? Even in a home that has no children? I don't think so. Even without kids, there's still neighborhoods, and those neighbor kids may get hurt.
But I love that dog.
Tomorrow, I'm going to do the painful task of taking this dog to McDonalds, and letting him have a bunch of cheeseburgers. I'm going to tell him how much I love him, and hope that he feels like the best dog on the planet. But then I'm going to take him to the vet, and hold him while they put him to sleep. I hope that for at least a brief period in his life, he felt like he was loved, and that he was part of a family that loved him. I hate what his abusers did to him, forcing me into this decision. No one should have to kill their perfectly healthy, mostly happy best friend.
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