Diamond's Big Day

As soon as I walked through the door this afternoon, I sensed that all was not well. Phil was sitting on the edge of the chaise in the living room waiting for me. As soon as I closed the door behind me, he stood up and said, “Come here. I want to show you something,” as he headed toward the bedroom.

My mind was racing. Was it something I did before I left for work this morning, or neglected to do, like leave water running in the sink, or worse yet in the toilet? Had Kitty Rocky gotten into mischief during the day and destroyed something in our house? Or perhaps, Phil had been surfing on the internet and inadvertently loaded a virus. What could it be? I put my briefcase and purse down on the dining room table and moved hesitantly toward the bedroom. When I got there, I saw Phil kneeling beside Diamond, who was resting on the rug next to our bed, petting her. I moved closer and saw what he had to show me. Diamond had a long row of metal staples on her face, between her eye and snout. She looked up at me with dull and groggy eyes, and wagged her tail. What happened? Was she o.k?

Phil and Diamond drove up to Cherokee County in the morning to visit Phil’s friend, Bill. They were going to do a little fishing at Bill’s pond, while giving Diamond a fun time to romp and play with Bill’s German Shepherds, Maggie and Midnight. When they arrived, Diamond jumped out of the truck, greeted her friends, and took off running. Phil and Bill were walking down toward the pond when they heard a loud thud, and a dog yelping. They could see that one dog was down on the ground next to Phil’s truck, but couldn’t tell which one it was. When they got there, they saw Diamond laying on the ground dazed and bleeding. It seems that she had been chasing Maggie and ran smack into the corner of the truck tailgate, gashing her face and knocking her silly. Phil told me that he took his bandana and put pressure on the wound for a few minutes, and then loaded her into his truck to take her to the vet. By the time I got home from work, Diamond had spent most of the day at the veterinary clinic where they put her to sleep, closed the wound with eight staples, and gave her a shot of pain medication before letting Phil bring her home.

My heart went out to her, knowing that she probably didn’t understand what had happened, looking at Phil and me through glazed eyes with complete trust. I was thankful that her eye wasn’t damaged, as I sat down on the floor beside her to pet and comfort her. I thought back to the day that two-year-old Wade hit his face on the edge of a coffee table and split his eyebrow wide open, requiring a trip to the emergency room and several stitches. In many ways, Wade and Diamond were alike, both hurt suddenly while in the middle of play and having fun, and neither of them knowing what hit them.

How can I compare my child with my dog, you might ask. It’s easy. When you’re a mom, you’re a mom, and it doesn’t matter who your child is!