Therapy

I wish I could say that since I posted about my PTSD stuff all has been fantastic, but it just isn't yet.  A comment was made at church about "The Lord's Time" and I was once again reminded that I will get better, but maybe not as fast as I would like.  Which is to say that I really wish I NEVER had this.

Saturday was particularly heinous.  Enough for Randy to try and fix it.  He has been good to just listen, but Saturday had him scrambling for anything that would make me feel better.  So, he packed us all up and headed to a place of his choosing.  The Humane Society.  Maybe I would bond with a dog that could be a kind of therapy for me.  I was resistant, but followed.  While I love my house, I realize that we are kind of bursting at the seams.  I can't imagine adding one more piece of paper, let alone a dog.  But, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to look at dogs.  I love the idea of a dog.

There were two cute ones that could work, but nothing in the building that really struck me as one I would really want.  We weren't truly thinking we'd walk out of there with one, but I think Randy was totally open to anything that I wanted to do.  However, one caught his eye enough for a closer look.  She was out in the yard with a volunteer.  From a distance, she looked so similar to our first dog, Sadie.  Upon closer inspection, it was her color and back that looked so similar; the face was different.  And she retrieved balls for the kids, something that Sadie never did.  The kids were in heaven playing with her.  Could this be our family dog?!

We had been talking with the volunteer for about fifteen minutes, playing with her and just feeling her out, when Tyson threw her tennis ball and started running with her.  I was seriously enjoying the laughter of my kids, loving that they weren't afraid of her size.  At that moment, the dog kind of bumped up to Tyson.  I could see the change in his countenance, he was startled and instantly scared.  I'm not really sure how it happened, but the dog went from chasing the ball, to playing more actively with Ty.  He did NOT like that.  His laughter changed to yelps and again to screams.  His arms came up to cover his face, blocking his view and making him turn in circles to get away from her.  She took this as playing and ended up knocking him to the ground.  Since he had been running with her, he was about 40 feet from us, so it took us a little time to run to him; all the time he was screaming bloody murder.  I don't blame him!  While the dog was just playing with him, she was actually standing over him, slobbering all over his face and clothes.  Imagine an unknown dog, three times your size, standing over you while you cower and pray for your life.

Pictures at home of Tyson's nipped ear.

Ty was done with the Humane Society after that.  He was shaking out-of-control as we walked away from Sadie's look-alike.  I knew that we couldn't leave it like that, or he would be scared of dogs for life, so we asked to see one of the more docile dogs.  We had looked at this particular dog when we first walked in, and since it had barely moved when we walked by the kennel, I figured it would be calm enough for Tyson to pet.  I was right.  Tyson wasn't wrestling the dog in ecstasy, but he did pet him a few times and even fed him a treat from his hand.  We made sure to talk with him about the experience, making sure that he realized that the dog was playing.  We never discounted his fear, because it was nowhere near irrational,  but tried to make him realize that the dog wasn't trying to eat him (Tyson had mentioned to Brennon that he thought the dog had seen him as dinner).

I am not opposed to a dog, per se.  I think I would be more likely to get a little dog.  Preferably house trained.  And didn't bark.  And didn't bite my kids.  One that could be just one more tool to get me better.  Because it is agony not being in control of your mind when you desperately want to be, but just can't.