Disney. Alligator. Grief. Unfriend.

This was my facebook post for today.
It comes straight from my heart:

I'm not big on "unfriending" for trivial stuff.
I don't mind if you rant about politics. I don't care how you feel about gun control or not. I don't care if your views vary from my faith in the God I serve.
Heck. I don't even care if you are an auburn fan :)
I'm just ok with us having different thoughts and opinions. That's what makes the world go 'round.
But.
Insensitive jokes about the alligator. Hateful judgement about the mom and dad.
That'll make me play the unfriending card.
I have buried my own child.
I have walked away from a cemetery with a little tiny mound of dirt (actually my husband carried me).
And only by the grace of God, my life goes on.
I can't handle hiding behind a keyboard with a thoughtless joke or comment.
May God give endless grace to that family today as they woke up praying this was a bad dream.
Because I woke up, hoping it was...on their behalf.
‪#‎PleaseUnfriendMe‬
‪#‎SoIDontHaveTo‬
‪#‎BeKind‬
‪#‎PeopleAreHurting‬

Please remain calm

It was a nice quiet day in the hundred acre woods.....who am I kidding?! It was a typical chaotic day. 

Mason was in class/lab and Chap was at worship practice. 

Hubby was on the road (#TravelingCokeMan) and I was finishing up some work. 

So, out of my office I go...in an effort to be a domestic queen and cook dinner for my children. 

Well. That plan was de-railed as I spotted a puddle of blood in the garage. Fresh, bright red blood. 

I looked for Jack in his usual spot. He wasn't there. But there was more blood.

Where was he? Had he been eaten by a pack of wolves (that seems likely)?! 

Panic.  

Jack!!!

Jack!!!!

I scream as I run out into the yard searching. It looked like I had just been dispersed for an Easter Egg hunt. 

Panic. Chaos. Where's Jack?! 

There he is. 

Whew! 

He hobbled his way to me. Only to stop at my feet and vomit no less than a gallon of fresh blood. 

WHAT IS GOING ON?! 

No. Seriously. 

Blood in the garage. Blood on the patio. Blood allllll over the front porch. 

So after I had a complete lose-my-mind moment (or 3). I called the vet.

Thank goodness they gave us that handy dandy tag on his collar. 

I didn't know MY OWN name....much less theirs. 

I called. He was great. 

He sensed my panic. Helped me evaluate. 

Jack had severed the pad on his paw. 

He explained that I needed to get the bleeding under control and to bring him in NOW. 

[he likened it to a human cutting their wrist. Time was pretty important here.]

I wrapped it an ace bandage.

 

Meanwhile, I'm crying "please don't die. Please don't die"

He's whimpering. And looking so pitiful. But hardly had his eyes opened. 

And in the nick of time, Mason drove up. And carried Jack to the car. It was as if I almost hear Jack say aloud "can't you see I'm injured?! I can't walk!!"

#spoiled

Hallelujah. He drove us. 

The vet met us there. And dressed it properly. He gave him an anti biotic, and a shot of pain meds. 

And we went home to watch him thru the night. 

My kids laugh at me about how I treat this puppy. Um.....

He slept with me. 

He ONLY sleeps in his bed in the hall. 

But. Quite honestly. I was so uneasy. 

I picked him up and put him with me and he never budged. Not an inch thru the night. 

He was weak, and he was OUT. 

I'm glad he was. I know he was in pain. 

He went for surgery this morning and the Dr said he had almost completely removed the pad on his paw. OUCH!!!!

{we have no idea what or how he did this)

So. Jack is home now. And bless it. He's pitiful.

Who am I?! 

I don't even *like* dogs:)

Are you kidding me?! I love this baby. 

I need him.

I'm just so glad he's ok. 

But the moral of the story is---I'm terrible in a crisis. Psycho. Out. Of. Control. 

You should never count on me to call 911. Or save someone's life. I'm just not emotionally stable enough for that. #fact