Bedlam, Pure Bedlam

A pit bull tore through our yard and killed two cats yesterday. The dog managed, somehow, to get into our garage and infiltrate our stockade fence. You know, the area of your property that you somehow have this false sense of it being a safe environment because you've spent a couple grand on a fence.

My husband was trimming some tree limbs out front. My youngest said to me, "I think I heard Dad scream."

My first thought was great. He'd managed to maim himself by cutting off an appendage. I went out to investigate, just in time to see him opening the gate on the stockade fence. You know, the privacy fence that is 6' tall, wooden, meant to keep our dog inside and things that don't belong out.

"Did you scream?"

"No, but I think there's a dog killing a cat in the yard."

"Which yard? This yard? How did a dog get in there? In here or out there?" I rambled, not sure which direction to run.

I ran inside the fence to see the youngest son's cat Shrek being torn to shreds.

The dude who was chasing the dog showed up about then. I'm screaming, "Oh god, oh god," and just sobbing without any tears. Primal noises fueled by adrenaline. The dude is apologizing as I'm screaming the cat's name peppered with profanity. Pure Bedlam.

It happened so fast I couldn't even tell you which way the dog went, where the dog's owner went, or even what the dog looked like. I only saw the cat. The one he's had for about 8 years that was inside our fence. Every time the cat tried to get away, the dog lunged at it again. I could only scream.

Naturally, I grabbed for the cat, and took a bite to my wrist. Less one tooth because in the fight, the poor old cat had one knocked out. I have three bite marks. I've seen a dog kill a kitten with a nip and a toss up in the air, but never, never had I'd witnessed something like this.

There were other cats that stay outside milling about. I figured I'd better do a headcount to see if any others were killed. I walked into the garage and there lay a dead kitten. It was a stray that had shown up, and being the bleeding heart that I am, I'd been feeding it and loving it. The poor thing didn't stand a chance.

I carried its lifeless little body to where my husband was already digging a hole for Shrek. That's how he deals with dying animals. He starts digging. I sit and bawl my eyes out talking to the animal. He digs a hole deep enough to bury a small child and hide any evidence.

I couldn't contain the tears any longer at this point, and I wept openly.

"It wasn't even our cat," my husband said in regards to the kitten when he saw me sobbing.

No, it hadn't been, but I was devastated by what I'd seen, and to find another critter destroyed made me lose what little self-control I had.

"No, but that dog came right into our yard. Inside our fence. He killed everything in his path. It's our yard. He shouldn't have been in here," I cried.

Shrek didn't die right away because that would have been too easy. There was some discussion of taking him to be put down, but I knew he wouldn't survive a 20 minute car ride.

My son being a 15 year old boy who doesn't cry and doesn't show much emotion, didn't know what to do as we sat vigil in the yard. So he yelled at me. Told me to stay away from his cat. Threatened to find the dog and kill it. Punched the fence.

My husband walked down the street and found who owned the dog. A young girl, 16ish, who was visiting her grandma and had brought the dog along. She came to apologize. My son ran inside because he didn't want her to see him crying.

She tells me she's sorry. The dog kills cats. He's killed her cat, and she knows how rough it was to sit and watch a cat convulse and die. I tried to explain to her that my problem was it was INSIDE our yard. The dog trespassed and treaded where he shouldn't have been. A place where my cats would have been safe otherwise. I understand dogs get loose. I would have been less pissed if it had happened in our back yard. She promised to never bring the dog back to her grandma's again.

I've got other cats, of course. But what hurts is to see my son's pain. He's not generally a loving child when it comes to animals. He loved that cat with everything he's had.

I'm sure half the town heard my rant from my front yard about puppy mills and people breeding these dogs to make a buck, and how oftentimes, they end up violent and aggressive animals. I'm not so naive to not know there are dogs that take a special liking to chasing and killing cats. But holy fuck. This happened inside my yard. Too many what ifs. Like what if my old 11 year old dog have been out at the time. What if we hadn't noticed right away and he killed my four kittens that live in the garage? What if the dog turned on one of us when we were trying to rescue the cat?

We wrapped Shrek up in a Spongebob pillowcase that my son used to use, but has since grown too old for - because Shrek had spent his life sleeping on the top of his pillow in bed with him.

I can't formulate the words to convey how pissed off and violated I feel right now. I feel as though I've been raped or robbed.

I know it's not the dog's fault. As I later found out, it had been mistreated before they got the animal. It also didn't just nonchalantly slip away, either. The dog broke either it's leash or collar while it was being walked.

I'm honestly one of the first people to say that others' freedoms shouldn't be taken away. If you want to own an alligator, knock yourself out, but don't turn it loose in the creek or local swimming hole. But I'll also say, in my opinion, that there are some animals that are not meant to be pets. Wild animals aren't meant to be pets. Animals bred, and then inbred, for the purpose of killing aren't meant to be pets, either. But if you must have one, be responsible, and don't be surprised when you can't control the forces of nature.

It's like the greyhound that has spent a lifetime racing and is adopted. Sure, they are gentle, often timid creatures. But a greyhound has to be watched. Who knows what will trigger their desire to run like the wind. A leaf blowing across a sidewalk. A sound from the neighbor's house. Responsible owners know the dangers of letting the dog off a leash in an unconfined area.

Who knows what might trigger the trait for which the animal was bred.

I guess that's what bugs me the most. The lack of responsibility for these dogs. I know as with any animal, a lot depends on the owner. Not all pit bulls are destructive creatures. I've known several Chihuahuas that I wouldn't trust around a small child.

It was an unfortunate event for an otherwise peaceful Sunday morning. No amount of demanding the dog be put down will bring back our old cat. And I do miss him. He kept post in the kitchen while I cooked. When I sat on the couch, he often sat on the arm beside me. He was a fixture in our household, and yes, eventually old age would take him from us. But the way he died, brutally murdered if you will, is what makes me mourn him even more.

The girl's grandma stopped by today to apologize once again. I appreciated it, but I'm heartbroken and it's going to take some time to get over what I witnessed.

Poor ole Shreky. My heart breaks for you.