Shhh…. I have a secret

TRIGGER WARNING: Straight talk about a dog attack and the aftermath

We had a major loss a few days ago. The title pretty much says it.

My daughter and my daughter-in-law were walking their two little dogs. I say little because they were both chihuahuas. One weighs about 7lbs an the other right at 4lbs. They had just walked around the block. It was a gorgeous day and they just wanted to get out of the house. They were almost back around when a pit bull started coming their way. It had no collar or leash, and no one around that could have been with it. It seemed friendly- right up to when it lunged and grabbed the little dog, Chiquita, and started to maul her.

It was fast, and it was awful.

The daughter scooped up the other dog and tried to help her wife, to no avail. Finally, someone yelled “drop it” to the dog and she did.

But the damage was done.

The girls ran back to our house screaming hysterically, calling for me.

Chiquita was bleeding everywhere. The girls were in shock.

I immediately grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her. I noticed what no one else had yet- part of her intestines were showing.

We started calling around for an emergency vet. We have no one in town and our regular vet wouldn’t take her. We finally found one a city away, explained and were told to get there ASAP.

That was a fast 25 miles, believe me. I drove. There was no way either of them could have.

On the drive, Chiquita was awake, whimpering but still breathing and seemingly aware.

Both the girls were talking to her, trying to keep her calm, apologizing to her….

I broke my heart.

The vet took her straight back for triage. She became the priority case.

We were allowed to see her once she was on pain meds and had a warming blanket. They had cleaned her up.

The vet started to explain the plan for her. After their exam, they decided that the bite on one side had just pierced the outer skin and possibly the abdominal wall, but had not punctured her lung. The other side was…. much worse.

All in all, she needed immediate surgery, but they felt she had a good chance of full recovery.

The problem? We needed to come up with all of the money for surgery before they would start. Granted, I see the reasoning, but the estimate was almost $7000.

I spent the next half an hour desperately trying to come up with the funds. Not easy after 5PM. Finally, between savings, checking, and a couple of credit cards, we were down to lacking just $600. The receptionist talked them into accepting that (I said I would get the rest in the morning), and they got her ready for surgery.

They told us there was no reason to stay; she would be out for a few hours after surgery. The vet promised they would call when they were done, or if they had any issues. We all kissed her goodbye, told her we loved her and gave her quick pats.

We left, positive that she was in good hands and would be ok.

We only got about halfway home when they called. I didn’t even hear the conversation before I turned around to go back.

Chiquita was gone. Her heart had stopped, and they couldn’t get it started again.

She was gone.

We went back. As soon as I was parked, I ran in. I needed to make sure that she was ready for the girls to see her and not still hooked up to everything.

It was awful. I watched as they took out the tubes and gently placed her so it looked like she was just sleeping. I told her goodbye and that I loved her. Then I stepped aside so the girls could see her and say goodbye.

From there, I spent my time shuttling between my daughter, who had ran outside, and my daughter-in-law, who was inside, still trying to say goodbye.

We had called my husband and had him bring my son to give us a hand. I knew I couldn’t help both girls at once, and keep it together myself.

I was glad when they arrived and took the daughter home.

I took care of the bill, and took my DIL home.

(The bill was over $2000).

My husband had made a police report while we were gone. I had also talked to the police while we were waiting.

They found the owner. They are paying the vet bill.

But, it doesn’t make up for her senseless, painful death. It should never have happened.

The girls have been crying ever since. Having nightmares. Truamatized.

I have done my best to help, but honestly, I am traumatized as well.

I see her in my sleep, every time I close my eyes.

The blood. Her wound. Her on the table, dead.

I will remember it for a very long time.