Written Dec 23rd, 2017
It’s 5:30 AM, I’m wide awake with no sleep in sight. Over the past week or so I’d been going through a period of insomnia but tonight is different, tonight I am haunted by an incident that happened earlier in the evening that has snatched away my peace of mind like a seasoned pick pocket. An incident happened that churns my brain into a vortex of disbelief and hurt......
My little black toy poodle Jake has been known to nip one of our friends and I’ve never understood why, as others come and go without incident. There had been one time when Jake rushed at him barking and the friend grabbed and pushed him forcibly to the floor in a Cesar Millan style of reprimand, but it was done roughly and it choked him. I hollered for him to stop but he didn’t and only when I reached to grab Jake away did the man let him go. When done properly the dog is calmly put on his side and then held by the back of the head as one dog would do to the other in a pack situation, not forced down violently so that the dog’s legs are twisted and pinned nor cutting off their oxygen. I was upset, but because nothing like this had ever happened before I brushed it off as an isolated incident but vowed never to bring him to their home again.
So earlier this evening, the man and his wife, long-time friends of ours arrived at our house and Jake rushed the man and nipped his leg. It wasn’t a full on bite, it doesn’t break the skin or cause bruising, its more of a surprise than a pain. Usually we are diligent and hold him as he barks furiously at this man until he is in the door and all is settled, but this time we were distracted with other friends and didn’t make it to the door in time.
So the man was nipped, I saw it happen. Then I watched in horror as the man kicked Jake in the ribs, sending him across the floor up against the cupboards and then moved toward him to kick him again. I screamed “Don’t kick my dog!”, Jake is as big as a minute compared to a six foot human and his little body is vulnerable. I rushed in and scooped Jake up before the foot connected for a second blow and carried him towards the living room. The man followed me and when I turned around, he was right there, drew his arm back and hit Jake in the face. The look on the man’s face ruffled me, it was pure hate. He was not the man I thought I knew. He was a stranger.
Shielding Jake from further assault, I ran into the downstairs powder-room, closed and locked the door and sat on the toilet seat. Jake was whimpering. I was sobbing.
I might be able to understand and perhaps forgive a knee jerk reaction to the nip, but trying to get in a second kick and failing that, following me and administering a blow to Jake’s head is totally a different story.
The evening was to celebrate hubby’s and my birthday and now it lay in ruins. Hubby, came in to see how I am and asked if I’m coming out but my blood pressure was soaring, my head was pounding and anger was breeding progeny in the blood vessels of my face until it was painted pure red. I told him I wouldn’t be coming out; I couldn’t pretend it didn’t happen. I was terribly upset and then wondered why hubby didn’t ask the man to leave but I guess I can’t judge when I cowered as well. We both couldn’t comprehend what happened. Call it shock I guess.
Years of past friendship with this man tried to balance itself against the abuse of our dog, and even though the man held no significance there I sat on a toilet seat, hiding from the reality of what just happened. I waited there for a bit then went upstairs with Jake. They all saw me as I walked by, no one said anything. Henri, our cream boy followed us and I sat on the bed to mull over what happened, again and again and again and again....... I don’t condone Jake nipping, but the reaction didn’t fit the incident and it wasn’t a fair battle, like bringing a tooth pick to a gun fight. I won’t have my dog injured or beaten. How dare someone come into my home and attack one of my pets. One of my children!
I’m ashamed of myself now. I’ve written enough in the past that you all know I don’t do controversy well but my dog was abused and I didn’t stand up for him. When I told some friends they were appalled and told me they would have thrown him out by the scruff of his neck. I can’t stand the thought of him getting away with what he did but I suppose, in the long run, he won’t because if he valued our friendship at all there will be a loss.
It was the shock of it all. It numbed me but I should have spoken my mind, not ran and hid. My past comes up to haunt me once again. Being constantly bullied by an older sibling and then married to a man that abused me, stops me short but there are times when you have to step out of your past and stand up for what you believe in, defend the ones you love and I failed. This will be one of my bigger regrets and it will haunt me to know I didn’t fight for my precious little dog.
So now I’m in a quandary and my brain won’t settle for sleep to relieve me of dark thoughts. I can’t stop the chant, “Oh my god, my friend kicked and hit my dog”, “oh my god my friend kicked and hit my dog”. The fact that Jake didn’t suffer serious injury was a miscalculation on the man’s part. He clearly meant to inflict pain, I could see it in his face. Hubby tells me that he’s witnessed the guy kicking his own dog so there is a mentality that is bred in. He obviously has no respect for small animals or understanding of why they do what they do. Dogs can read people better than humans, Jake knows....
I view my dogs as my children, I love them as if they were born from my womb. Now when I think of this guy I see a black heart, one that can never be trusted around Jake again. Now that Jake has been hurt by this man, he will remember it until he takes his last breath.
So I stayed upstairs for the next hour until he and his wife left, listening to him laugh and drink our Scotch and eat our food. When I’m upset with someone I can pretend that it’s all okay, I can’t act as if nothing’s happened to spare his feelings when mine are in pieces, but I am ashamed that I hid.
So now I’m left to deal with the aftermath. I can’t get it out of my head. His actions. His face. Never once did he apologize, hubby said his wife said he shouldn’t have done it, but no one tried to speak to me to smooth it over or check on Jake to make sure he was okay. That hurt as well but maybe it’s telling, perhaps the value of our friendship was one sided. Their host was clearly absent from her own birthday gathering and they didn’t care. The other friend came up to check on me, my hubby told me later that she told the man that I view my dogs as my children, a fact that he knew already. Hubby is upset that this happened as well, we’ve renamed the scotch the man was drinking, “Kick The Dog Scotch” a black humoured, lest we forget kind of thing....
Now when I think back and remember things this friend said in the past like “It’s only a dog” when I spoke of the death of a past poodle,” and how he used to laugh, almost brag when their troubled dog bit (not nipped but full on bit) every dog it ever came in contact with, I’m wondering if my feelings for him clouded my instinct. Perhaps he wasn’t adding humour to somber events to remove the sting, but telling the truth and masking it with comedy.
But all the assumptions aside, the ugly fact remains that my little dog was hurt, kicked and then hit in the face, there is nothing more to say......Jake comes first, last and always. Time to find new friends.
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