Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

On July 7, 2010, in Miscellany, by Wendy

Saturday started out as a lovely day. Izzy woke early and we headed out to MacCaulay Park. We brought snacks and sidewalk chalk and had lots of fun drawing on the ground.

She insisted on adding whiskers to everything I drew.

Even the fish and the octopus got whiskers.

We stopped by Goodwill and found some new books for Izzy. She’s really losing interest in her baby board books, so now I’m stocking up on little kid story books. She really likes her new books but can’t seem to get enough of The Aristocats, The Little Mermaid and The Jungle Book. In fact, I have to read those stories every day. It’s a good thing I like them.

Isadora fell asleep on the way home, and transfer to crib was successful. I went into the kitchen to putter around. Mitch went to a neighbor’s house to hang out and was going to pick up a decaf latte for me from Farm Table (yum!) a little later.

While I was checking email, FaceBook, etc. I heard a terrible sound coming from outside. I can’t see the street from my apartment unless I stand on my dining room table, and only then just get a sliver of the north side. The sound was so upsetting, like an animal crying out in extreme pain, and I had a completely visceral reaction. I was shaking and started sobbing uncontrollably.

I looked out to see a woman holding a limp dog in her arms and she was screaming and crying and asking for help. It just broke my heart because I wanted to help her, but I couldn’t leave Izzy home alone to go out there to see what I could to help.

I kept seeing people approach her and then turn away. What the hell was wrong with these people? Why weren’t they helping her? I called Mitch and asked him to go down and see if he could help her get a cab, drive her to the vet, do anything to just MAKE THE SCREAMING STOP.

I began to understand that she let her dog walk off leash and he dashed into the traffic and got hit by a car. I was simply heart sick by the animal’s cries of pain and of the woman’s cries of anguish.

I started playing the “what if” game in my mind. What if Izzy broke free from me and ran into the street and was run over by a car? What if that was me holding her limp body, asking for help, and people turned away? I almost threw up I was so distraught.

Finally, a Fire Truck showed up to take control of the situation and Mitch came home to report what he learned. He, along with several other citizens, hailed several cabs and offered to give her money to take her and that poor suffering dog to a vet to get fixed up. She refused everything, which is why people were turning and walking away. She wanted to wait until Animal Care and Control would show up (even if it was going to more than an hour) to take the dog away so they could destroy instead of going to a vet for help. She apparently couldn’t afford the vet bills. More than an hour! To let that dog suffer, and let the people of the neighborhood live in her distress, for what? To not pay a vet bill?

I later learned that people called 911 for help. She wasted so many resources for no discernible reason other than getting rid of her pet who was no longer cute.

I am outraged by this woman’s lack of care for her animal. To let a dog walk off leash in this neighborhood, where cabs, buses and cars drive 50 miles an hour to make the next green light is just irresponsible. To take the life of an animal under your care because it’s cute and fun, but with no plans to see to it’s health and well being is just unconscionable. If you can’t afford to take care of your animal, then don’t get one.

I still can’t shake the sound of that dog crying.


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