All of the times I’ve imagined getting rid of the dog, it never went like this.
He’s been irritable and growly lately, his behavior moody and unpredictable, trying to run away each and every time we let him go out to pee. He's been snapping at the children, nipping them and growling. A visit to the vet revealed nothing, his vaccinations are up to date, and I’ve been at a loss as to what to do with him.
Suddenly this morning, he bit Abby, hard, unprovoked. It wasn’t a gentle warning nip. It was a hard, deep bite, leaving deep bleeding puncture wounds and a bloody scrape on her forearm where he swiped her with his paw after he bit her.
I agonized for a while, then called Animal Control. I didn’t do it lightly. I hate the dog, but my children LOVE him. But biting and hurting my kids? That’s where the line is.
They told me they would quarantine him for ten days, then give him to the county shelter, where he would undergo temperament testing (whatever that is). If they determined that he wasn't a danger, they would adopt him out to a child-free home.
I talked to the kids about it, but they’ve heard me threaten the dog so frequently that they didn’t really take me seriously. When the animal control officer showed up at the door, they all started to cry.
They were totally devastated.
I tried to explain it to them, how we couldn’t risk having a dog who bites, how I could never forgive myself if I kept a biting dog and something more serious happened, how my friend’s son was unexpectedly mauled by the long-time family dog and permanently disfigured.
They didn’t understand. All they understood was that the dog they loved so much was leaving, being taken away in the back of an animal control truck.
Abby tore away from me. She ran down the block after the truck, screaming for him to come back, please come back. It was awful - one of the most heart wrenching things I’ve ever seen or heard in my life. I carried her back into the house, inconsolable.
She loves that dog so much. She hugs him and loves him and carries him around and pets him and talks to him. She draws pictures of him and tells him stories and sneaks him treats and sings to him.
She was (and is) beyond heartbroken. She sobbed, “Mommy, please don’t let them take Wicket, please, please, it doesn’t even hurt at all anymore, he’ll be so good, I promise.”
They choked out questions in between sobs. “Is he coming back?” “Is he gone forever?” “Mommy, I love him, I love him, I love him.” “Please let him come back, Mom.” “Is he gonna be happy?” “Will they take care of him?” “Can he come back if he’s good?”
All I could do was hold them and stroke their hair and cry with them and tell them how very, very, very sorry I was. And I am. I’m so sorry. I'm devastated for my children, and especially for my Abby, who I found sitting by his crate tonight, weeping.
When she said her prayers before she went to sleep, she said, "And please bless Wicket to be happy and good and..." and then she started to cry again, and I had to lie down next to her and hold her until she fell asleep.
The horrible thing is that I don't know if I did the right thing or not. I tried to err on the side of caution, on the side of protecting my kids from harm. But I don't know if it was wrong or right. I just don't know, and I can't stop crying about it, knowing how much they are hurting, how deep of a gash I've inflicted on their tender little hearts.
He’s been irritable and growly lately, his behavior moody and unpredictable, trying to run away each and every time we let him go out to pee. He's been snapping at the children, nipping them and growling. A visit to the vet revealed nothing, his vaccinations are up to date, and I’ve been at a loss as to what to do with him.
Suddenly this morning, he bit Abby, hard, unprovoked. It wasn’t a gentle warning nip. It was a hard, deep bite, leaving deep bleeding puncture wounds and a bloody scrape on her forearm where he swiped her with his paw after he bit her.
I agonized for a while, then called Animal Control. I didn’t do it lightly. I hate the dog, but my children LOVE him. But biting and hurting my kids? That’s where the line is.
They told me they would quarantine him for ten days, then give him to the county shelter, where he would undergo temperament testing (whatever that is). If they determined that he wasn't a danger, they would adopt him out to a child-free home.
I talked to the kids about it, but they’ve heard me threaten the dog so frequently that they didn’t really take me seriously. When the animal control officer showed up at the door, they all started to cry.
They were totally devastated.
I tried to explain it to them, how we couldn’t risk having a dog who bites, how I could never forgive myself if I kept a biting dog and something more serious happened, how my friend’s son was unexpectedly mauled by the long-time family dog and permanently disfigured.
They didn’t understand. All they understood was that the dog they loved so much was leaving, being taken away in the back of an animal control truck.
Abby tore away from me. She ran down the block after the truck, screaming for him to come back, please come back. It was awful - one of the most heart wrenching things I’ve ever seen or heard in my life. I carried her back into the house, inconsolable.
She loves that dog so much. She hugs him and loves him and carries him around and pets him and talks to him. She draws pictures of him and tells him stories and sneaks him treats and sings to him.
She was (and is) beyond heartbroken. She sobbed, “Mommy, please don’t let them take Wicket, please, please, it doesn’t even hurt at all anymore, he’ll be so good, I promise.”
They choked out questions in between sobs. “Is he coming back?” “Is he gone forever?” “Mommy, I love him, I love him, I love him.” “Please let him come back, Mom.” “Is he gonna be happy?” “Will they take care of him?” “Can he come back if he’s good?”
All I could do was hold them and stroke their hair and cry with them and tell them how very, very, very sorry I was. And I am. I’m so sorry. I'm devastated for my children, and especially for my Abby, who I found sitting by his crate tonight, weeping.
When she said her prayers before she went to sleep, she said, "And please bless Wicket to be happy and good and..." and then she started to cry again, and I had to lie down next to her and hold her until she fell asleep.
The horrible thing is that I don't know if I did the right thing or not. I tried to err on the side of caution, on the side of protecting my kids from harm. But I don't know if it was wrong or right. I just don't know, and I can't stop crying about it, knowing how much they are hurting, how deep of a gash I've inflicted on their tender little hearts.
