A wounded heart

I may or may not have mentioned before that we had a little Jack Russell terrier show up on our porch about four months ago. We let him sleep in the garage while looking for his owner. He had a collar but no tags and he wasn't microchipped. (CHIP YOUR DOGS!!!) I put up posters and contacted all of the shelters within a three state radius with no luck. Soooo....guess who moved into the house with us? Just let me state that had I known I was going to keep him, I would've come up with a more original name than 'Jack'.


All went swimmingly with Jack, even though he regularly tormented poor Gus, who is too big and dumb to defend himself. (Actually, he's just a really sweet dog who didn't want to hurt the little one, but it's more fun to call him big and dumb). He even slept at the foot of the bed with Betty Boop. Until last night. Last night, completely unprovoked, he did this:

Silas was sitting on the floor putting his shoes on when Jack attacked him. We are so lucky that there wasn't more damage. The thought of those disproportionately long teeth that close to my baby's eyes makes me cringe. Silas did the right thing by covering his head and rolling over as soon as the attack started. It breaks my heart that my little boy, who loves everyone and everything, had to use inherent survival skills in his own home. That I knowingly exposed him to harm. How could I have known, you ask? I dreamed it the night before. And my dreams always come true in some form. So I knew he was going to bite him, but I thought I had time to place him in a rescue. I gambled and Silas lost.

Jack has been taken by animal control. He has to be quarantined for ten days and then he'll be euthanized. There is no other way, the law will not bend on this. I just wish he didn't have to die. Even though I could've killed with my hands if I hadn't been tending Silas. But since we have no history on him and don't know if he's had his rabies shots or not, he must go.

This is the wound this morning:

It's the wounds to his heart that worry me most. He feels so betrayed and hurt. This is the first time he's ever been hurt by something he loved. I wish it would be the last.

I took the picture before we left for the ER because I knew animal control would need it. NOT because I'm an awful mother exploiting her kids injury. but since I had it anyway.....

Maximus, Best dog ever.

How do you repay a lifetime of loyalty? As I type this, I lay here beside my Mastiff, Maximus. He's 9 years old and he has bone cancer. He is wasting away and he looks to me to ease his pain. I carried this dog around like I birthed him until he was too big to carry. I have seldom gone anywhere without him. I've had him twice as long as I've had my son. He is a two hundred pound lap dog that has slept in the bed with us since we got him (king size, natch). When I was pregnant with piglet and had hyperemesis and didn't think I would survive, he comforted me. He laid his huge head on my huge belly and he snored. Piglet would instantly calm and still. After piglet was born, when he would cry, laying him on the dog would always relax and comfort him.

How do I explain to my four year old that his buddy, playmate, brother, is gone and will never be back? I know that there are people who have more serious issues, who have to explain why a father, mother, human brother aren't coming back, and I understand that's harder. But right now, in my grief, I can't imagine how anything could be harder. I don't know how to answer the questions that he will ask. I don't know how to soften the blow. So, in my uncertainty, Maximus waits, in pain, for me to gather my courage and help him like he has helped me for so long.