Love is a rose

Just to get my other dog story in - From my herstory.

One day, while Mom was in town, we were playing out in the yard, all five of us and our dog. He was in the road for some reason, either chasing a ball or coming back from the creek, I don't really remember. He was just a little hound and we all loved him.

A blue van came over the hill and hit him - right in the middle of the road. They slowed down, too late, and then sped off and left us standing there in shock.

I was fairly fast on my feet and knew this needed the Mom. I sent one girl to call her and I asked one for a blanket, I slowed down and looked for traffic but I was to him before they could reach the house. I didn't care about the cars that might come, I cared about our dog. I told the sister and brother left to stay back and sent them up the hill to flag cars for me.

I dropped there in the road beside him. He was screaming dog pain and it ripped my heart. I looked him over and knew moving him would hurt. I had to wait for the blanket and my extra set of hands. I spoke, to him, "Oh Ozzie I am so sorry, it's going to be ok", and such like that in a calm voice. Then I reached out my hand to comfort him, just to touch him on the head.

He bit me.

I stared at my hand and then the pain hit. His lips were drawn back and he growled and shook his head. That ripped my hand more. I tried to pull it back. He had his jaw locked down tight. I started crying, too. I couldn't get him to let go.

I finally hit him in the nose and yanked my hand as hard as I could to get him to give it back. I needed it to get him on the blanket. He let go when I hit him. We were both crying by then.

It hurt my heart so to hit my dog. I know it would have hurt his to know who he bit. We didn't either of us mean to do it but we didn't know what else to do in our pain but strike out.

I cradled my hand and ran back for the house with blood all over me. I called the other kids in with me and we left him lay there alone. I knew then and I know now that dog loved me. What I didn't know is that he was blinded by the pain and bit on instinct to protect himself.

If he had lived it would have been forgotten between us in the healing time. We would have fogotten the hurt taking care of each other while we got better. I know it because I have been through this with other animals in my life now. Never quite as bad as that mess, but they forgive me for my mistakes with them. I don't hold their errors against them, either. We move on past them.

I knew the kids and I would be risking another bite if we tried moving him. I sent them upstairs to wait and watch for Mom while I tended my hand. The littlest girl took the blanket and snuck back out the upstairs window. She found him where he had dragged himself. By then he was unaware. She brought him too us. He was a mess and we were all crying. I never did holler at her for not minding me.

Mom got home. We loaded up and headed for the vet. The poor dog had no bite left in him by then. My one hand was wrapped in a wet towel but I held him on my lap and used the other one to touch him. I talked to him in case he could hear. "I know you didn't mean it, I'm sorry I hit your nose. It's going to be ok. We are taking you to the vet." and all the other things a girl might say to comfort her pet.

We had to put that dog down. Mom took me to the doctor afterward. I wouldn't go until the dog was taken care of and I was screamingly sure of it. She accepted that from me, even after she saw my hand. I could wait while the poor dog needed help right now. I had some stitches in the knuckles and it was pretty ugly.

I couldn't use that hand for awhile. It hurt for a week or more. I had tears in the palm and knuckles. I had scars, they don't show much now, but at the time they made me shy about reaching out that marred hand.

The neighbor dog started coming down and they gave him to us. He never could be Ozzie but he chased the snakes out of the pond for us and we loved him. He was loving and ran through our days with us. Our hearts accepted him for himself. He had lots of tricks. When he got old he used to fall on his side and have little sizures. We would pound on his chest and he'd get up and stagger a minute and be fine. He lived to be almost eighteen with us.

I have had lots of dogs since then, and accidents that happened. I never left one with out my help, even with my fear of being bit.

I had a great pup we called Big Jake get hurt by a truck one day. I was terrified of his screams and afraid he was a goner. I had kids by then and had to be the mom. I got him out with the help I had from the mate and I washed his wounds and dressed them the best I could. He didn't bite me but I was very careful handling him. We got through it and he lived.

I could have been too afraid and not been able to help him. How could I not try when I heard him hurting? I had to really get into the brave pills to reach under the truck and help bring him out. I did it. I will do it again if I have to. I like to think I will always be able to reach out and help, no matter how scarred up the hand I have left to do it with.

I know that if you love each other you can get through a hurt to each other. The pain and love are both real but one stops and the other is for always. In the healing time the hurt will pass.

And I learned that even a scarred hand can show love for a friend. Keep reaching out your hand.