Sunday, October 18, 2009

Pit of Dispair...not what I planned to write about.

Heavy heart, heavy soul, tired. That sums things up in a nut shell. It has been one of those weeks, months, maybe even years. We all have them and some how we survive. I guess that is what we are doing these days surviving.

So why so blue? Well there has been some good moments and some horrific tragedies that no matter what I do I can't seem to make sense of them or to let go.

What am I talking about?
Sorry....

I guess putting it down on paper (I mean the www) makes it just a bit too real.

How do I say this and have it make the impact I feel.

My baby bottle goat passed away. If you don't have a pet well, then you don't understand. Or maybe you do,I don't know. It's all mixed up. Add to that equation that she was killed in a horrific and tragic event. I don't know if I even want to explain.


Seems I can't get things right.

First my one of my cats Merlin was attacked by one of our foster dogs, I named the dog Roger. He's a goof and I would have never guessed that he would hurt anyone or anything. However, I have either gotten soft, too busy, or to0 confident; I can't figure out which.


Merlin was saved by Dr. L and us being able to get him to her in a timely manner. We also got to him quickly. He slipped out of the house and was intercepted by Roger and had some help from another foster dog. It was a mess. I never ever wanted to go through that again.


We talked, we talked, and we talked. Because I am the forever optimist I assume that it was something I had done and that Roger could be fixed. This is where I realize that the ground is slipping out below my feet. I can't save them all and I need more awareness to this fact.


But I read other blogs and I get WAY to many subscriptions to big name rescue groups and if they can rehab the Vick dogs than why can't I "fix" Roger?

So we talked and talked some more and then took Roger to a farmer who then was never home so Roger kept coming back to us. I guess the guys really not a farmer because he's never home. Roger got lonely and showed up.

Merlin got better and I forgot. I am way too good at that.

Roger improves like 99% of the dogs who come through our rescue program. He learns manners, he starts slowly to fit into the pack that we have well established. He learns "sit" which is a huge accomplishment for him because he is way too hyper.

I forgive him, somehow. Because Merlin is fine and I tend to forget. WHY!!!

We have had another foster dog here and this is going to make our program sound like a huge freaking disaster organization, which I swear it is not. However, I have well (we) have made some crappy choices because remember I am the perpetual optimist and I don't realize that I can't help them all. A friend reaches out with a dog with "issues" and I think I can fix him, because that is what I do. I fix.

He's been at the ranch almost 5 and half months. His name is Mic and he's a handsome boy but he does have issues and we work on them. He's aggressive to other dogs and he quickly learns that behavior is not allowed by us or the pack. I could explain how our pack works but just know it is similar to the Dog Whisperer but with some other ideas tossed in. It has worked very well for us and we have rehabed a bunch of dogs. I am not trying to make an excuse just maybe give some background.

I am told in passing by 007 that Mic doesn't care for Roger. Ok, I don't really give it much thought because both are doing great with my pack and well I love to see all the dogs happy and playing. So one day when of course 007 isn't home I opt to let Mic out at the same time Roger is out. Mic was fine, sitting in his run with his tale wagging. It was a sunny day everything was fine.

I let Mic out and he runs full throttle towards Roger who doesn't even see him coming. He goes for his neck and he's fast. He pins him and they tumble all legs, tails, and fur. I try all the techniques I've learned to separate two fighting dogs. My pack can't help and I wouldn't let them if they even wanted to. Nothing stops Mic.

One key thing to point out is that you never stick your hand or limb into a dog fight because it will get bitten. I know this and self preservation takes a hold of me but the other side of my brain engages and realizes I can pull them apart if I get a leash around Mic's back end. I use a long leash and he never knows what is pulling him back. He's snapping at the force pulling him away from his target. I get him to his kennel and he walks right in. Sits down and looks up at me as if to say, "that was a great walk, thanks". I am speechless.

I check Roger over, he has a few puncture wounds, nothing too deep. His neck is fine. I call our Vet and give him some meds I have on hand based on her instructions. I put him in his run and call 007. He's upset, can you blame him, but I swear I had no idea. He goes in to the Vet the next morning for some injectable drugs and more meds.

Mic has been with us while his owner gets her life established here in KS. We have also seeked out an adoptive home for him but have yet to find one. Now I am truly grateful we never did. I ask 007 to talk to his owner and handle it. He does and Mic is no longer at the ranch. He is a classic case of a dog who has been through hell and back and the scars are so deep I can't repair them. We place the next step back on the owner because it is ultimately her decision. You can guess what she has chosen to-do. Honestly I believe it is the right choice. He is a dog that no one can trust and that isn't what a pet should be.

Roger recovers and is back to his mischievous self digging small trenches in my yard in a matter of days. He is fine and remember I have forgave him and now I feel guilty for Mic's actions.

I get soft, lazy, tired, you name it. I let my guard down or I don't engage my brain I have no idea. What the hell I did wrong but thinking sure wasn't apart of it.

We begin to leave Melody our bottle goat out to graze when all the dogs are out. She's a distance off from their normal play area and we stay outside with her and them. Going in and out of the house. Sometimes I let Roger be out at the same time and he seems to ignore her. At first we made a point to always put Roger up when she was out but he barks a lot when everyone but him is out playing.

So I give in.

We have just returned from a really great meal out. I let Melody out and 007 takes her to her spot to graze. She is happy as a clam munching on clover in her little spot. Meanwhile I let Roger out and he happily runs off to romp and play with the other dogs. I watch and I wait he has no interest in her and I never give it a second thought.

Maybe I do somewhere deep in my gut, maybe. It is all starting to blurr already.

007 and I decided to take a nap because we are wiped out from a crazy week and we have just pigged out on BBQ. Everyone looks happy and fine.

I wake-up about 6pm and Melody is still happily out grazing. I have on flip flops and my bathrobe over my pj's so I don't want to go get her. 007 is still asleep and I am annoyed. Why? I just am because we have wasted our time off on a nap.


Never mind the fact that we both needed the nap but I am cranky. Maybe it's that feeling that something bad is about to happen and I just can't shake it. I don't know. Hard to say.


I wake him up to talk about the current delay in the remodel projects. We disagree, we argue, we work it out. It takes us awhile but we do fine. However, it isn't until 8pm or later that I realize that I never went and got Melody.


I freak, 007 runs out of the house and I look for better shoes. He screams bring towels and I know.


I know... it will never be as it was.

Roger has hurt her, very badly.

She is still alive but won't be for long.

I freeze. My mind goes blank. It then begins to function again and I know I can't do a thing for her.

I try to call Dr. L but her phone is off and it's late. I call another vet and another. I finally get a hold of one who specializes in goats in the tri-county area. He tells me what I already know.

I can do nothing to save her.

I have caused her death.

She is 8months old and has never done anything wrong except maybe eat my geranium's. She is a doll baby and Roger has torn her up. I can't stitch her back together, I can't ease her pain.

She is in shock. I keep her warm and listen to her heart fade and I cry huge sobs and I can't stop it.

I am broken. I am grieving and I can't fix any of it. I don't even want to ease my pain.

This week alone I have been unable to save a Tameran monkey named Santos, one of the baby rabbits, and Melody. It has been exhausting.


The baby rabbit probably died of complications from a bacterial infection, which wild bunnies are prone to. The monkey, Santos, died after suffering a stroke five days prior. We did an MRI prior to his death. Hoping against all odds that it was a mass and maybe just maybe we could fix it.

Why?


Because that is what I do "I fix," and I don't mess up. I can't. How did all of this happen and what is the lesson and what is the punishment.

Roger leaves tomorrow and all I can think of is, "murder". He betrayed my trust but I failed him as well. I didn't protect him from himself. I was suppose to but I didn't.

I want to reverse the clock and go back in time and fix all of this but I can't. My only solace in all of this is the belief that they are no longer suffering. That someone greater than me has made them whole again and some how again what I believe now, will actually make me whole again soon as well.

Sorry this is so sad but I had to write it all down and put it out there. They say it begins when you start to accept, the healing that is.

1 comment:

Chrystal said...

Oh, I'm so, so sorry. Even after hearing it from you, it's heartbreaking to read.

You didn't do this.