To the dogs

As those of you know who are friends on Facebook, two weeks ago my dog Buddy got attacked. Specifically, we had just taken our daily walk in the nearby forest preserve and were heading home. It was raining hard and cold, and Buddy was practically dragging me down the street to get home. I was wearing my hiking boots, and just couldn't walk as fast as normal.

Not two blocks from home and I heard a man's voice shouting. In less than a second, I knew he was shouting at his dogs, and I knew it was bad. He used that tone that included both anger and fear. I turned my head to see three large black dogs running across the street towards us. Before I could even react, they were on Buddy and I was being pulled in circles, in the middle of growling, barking and Buddy's cries.

The guy ran over and pulled one of his dogs back. Buddy was in the dog's mouth and he rose up from the ground as the man pulled his dog's collar hard. I'm pretty sure I was screaming. The dog let go and Buddy fell to the ground, bleeding and crying, and he started running towards our house. I ran for him and threw myself on top of him, as I looked up to see another of the dogs heading towards me. I kept screaming over and over again to this guy to come up and get his f&*#ing dogs. Finally, all dogs were gone and I was standing there with Buddy in my arms, not knowing how bad his injuries were, and frankly, in shock.

The story ends with Buddy getting stitched up at the animal hospital and me nursing him back to health. It has been almost two weeks since the incident, and he still has stitches, but he is otherwise okay. I, on the other hand, feel like something really important has been taken away from me: my sense of safety in my own neighborhood.

It has been a long time since I worked with victims of crime, and since anything really scary happened to me. It is amazing how easily we are lulled into a feeling of safety in our environment. I've had so many thoughts in the past two weeks, including, of course, realizing how I might feel had the violence occurred to my person. It was bad enough seeing my dog injured, but what if it had been me (bruises and scrapes from the dog attack not-withstanding). It brings fresh to my mind how difficult this world is for victims of violence. And I can't help but feel a little guilty for being so tuned-out all of this time.

So now Buddy and I both need to heal. I'm not completely sure how to proceed. Rob will be home soon and we'll all walk together and he'll be our alpha-male protecting us from the bad, scary dogs. And while I am comforted by this thought, I mourn the feeling of independence that I've always had, walking Buddy every day after work, alone and relaxed. I don't think I'll ever be relaxed again. And what is really sad to me is realizing that maybe I was naive to have been so relaxed in the first place.