A Bloody Dog Fight

I made Auggie, my six-year-old, cry the tears of an adult tonight. Tears of loss and surprise, grief and anger.

The incident started with McGoo and McGee, our sweet springer spaniels, breaking typecast and duking it out like Tyson versus Holyfield in the middle of the kitchen. McGoo -- tender-hearted, chubby McGoo -- instigated the battle royale when McGee strolled passed her, just a bit too close to the bowl of kibble McGoo had been guarding-and-not-eating for the past half hour. Suddenly, there was a rolling ball of snarling and teeth and fur and spit and blood and blood and more blood and yowling and me screaming and Auggie crying and dogs intent on killing each other . . .

I finally grabbed McGoo’s collar, kicking McGee back (not wanting to hurt her, sure I was going to lose a foot), McGoo still growling, either at the other dog or me, I wasn’t sure. All of us yelling. McGee bleeding, cowering. I tried checking McGoo for wounds and she growled at me. (ME. She follows me around all day, even into the bathroom while I shower, never away from my side, ME. Traitor.) At that point, I started the scolding, pointing my finger and yelling at the dog, as if she might understand, explaining, fiercely, I will never have an aggressive dog in my house, that I’m giving her away, that she is never to be allowed close to my child or pets again. Then I drug her back to a room and shut her in while I repaired poor McGee, bleeding from the face and paw.

I certainly didn’t mean to make Auggie cry. I found him ten minutes later, holed up with McGoo, hugging her, sobbing like a man with a kid on death row. I’m not saying that lightly. Body arched, red faced, howls akin to the dogs minutes ago . . . my boy thought I was coming to retrieve McGoo for the long mile. That some farmer down the road was going to take her out back and make her into horse meat.

Jeez, it was bad enough watching the two dogs I love like my children physically attack one another  . . . then I discovered my boy thought his momma was going to murder his beloved pet. I don’t know what made him cry harder, that I could abandon a creature I love (“What if I get in a fight, Momma?!”), or that a creature he loved was going to be abandoned. Oy vey. Emotional night for us all.