A longing for safety...

I have been struggling because all I really want is to feel safe in my own home.  I left, hastily, and moved here in pursuit of that.  Yet things have happened here that barred such peace.  Now another one, different, yet still overwhelming.

It had to do with Amos. 

I have felt unsafe inside and I have felt unsafe in the garage due to the actions of others.  Yesterday, I became afraid of my own backyard.  I have been weeping ever since.

Saturday, I stepped outside to allow Amos to do his business and found the neighbor's dog on my back steps.  I have a fenced yard and simply do not know how he got in other than to leap over the fence since it is a half-sized chain link fence.  My heart racing, I stuck Amos in the kitchen and went next door to ask them to remove their dog.  I have been bitten by a dog twice and had my beloved Kashi bit three (or was it four?) times during his fifteen years.  I never take being around a dog for granted.

No one was home.

With tears of frustration running down my cheeks, I finally garnered the courage to grab the collar of the dog and got him back to his own yard.  Actually, I put him in a small space next to the garage, since the gate to the actual yard was locked.  I did not go over to the neighbors' house after they returned home because they have not once returned my greeting when I have seen them out and I simply struggle to interact with anyone these days with all the confusion filling my mind.

Then, yesterday, I was out with Amos and heard the tea kettle go off.  I also heard the jingle of dog tags, but I did not register what that meant and dared to dart inside to remove the kettle from the stove.  Just as I reached for the kettle, I heard a terrified howl from the back yard.  Racing back outside I saw Amos dangling from the neighbor's dog's mouth.  I charged him and scooped up Amos when he dropped him.  I dumped Amos inside and raced over to the neighbor's house and knocked on the front door.  An older woman answered it and I asked that she remove her dog from my back yard.  She said she was just the grandmother and I needed to talk to her son when he got home from work.

I stood there shaking, with tears streaming down my face, and told her that their dog had had my new puppy in his mouth just moments before, that I needed him out of my yard and to never come back. I said that he had been in my yard this weekend and that the dog shouldn't be left in the back yard unless he was secure inside it.  Over and over I repeated I just needed to be safe in my own back yard.

Tears still falling, I left and went to comfort my terrified puppy dog.  The back of his neck was wet and dirty, so I went ahead and gave him a warm bath, searching every inch of him to ensure that no skin was broken.  It is a very good thing that Amos is 50 percent hair! 

I do not yet know if Amos minds a bath, but he just stood there this time.  When he was clean, I swaddled him in a towel and held him, trembling, in my arms until he fell asleep.  Once he was truly asleep, I took myself off to the shower and stood for a long time in the steaming hot water, still crying.  Afterward, I crawled into bed with him for a while, soaking my pillow with my tears.

There have been so many times I have sat outside with Amos, even in the middle of the night.  I have this replica of a Victorian stone bench that I placed beneath an evergreen in the back corner of the yard.  Even though it is next to the alley, the overhanging branches make
for a peaceful spot. 

I need my back yard to be safe.

Amos has not been able to do his business outside.  Each time we try, he trembles, keeping one eye on the yard to the right, waiting until I will let him pass and go back up the steps.  I carry him to different spots in the yard and he races back to the door.  Unfortunately, he has not yet figured out that it is okay to do his business on the leash, so trying the front yard has not worked either.  It is hard to be firm with him about his accidents inside when I don't feel safe outside either.

The first time we ventured out, there was another dog outside, one I have not seen since I moved here, some sort of large husky.  I tried to show Amos it was still okay to be outside, but he took one look at that dog and scooted back up the steps.  When I picked him up and took him back out to the grass, he whimpered and trembled and scurried back to the door.


This morning was no better.  This afternoon was no better.  This evening was no better.  For either of us.


I am Yours, Lord.  Save me!