Emergency Rooms Again...

My heart sinks into my stomach as I read the text: Call me 911. I knew something was wrong. I knew like only a mother can know when one of her lion cubs is hurt. I knew it in the pit of my gut. I knew it in the bottom of my sunken heart.

While gulping a huge breath of air in an attempt to calm myself I dial the number. My ears are immediately overrun with her tears regarding you, my baby girl. It wasn't Cheryl's fault. She is one of the most caring and loving people I know. She fits right up there in my special list of people allowed to have my children for extended periods of time. However, in true mommy fashion she somehow thinks this accident is her fault and all I can hear her say over and over is I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Tanner, the dog you have known since you were about 2 years old and him about 6 weeks old snapped at you while you attempted to take his bone away from him. His teeth caught your skin and ripped it all the way down the right side of your perky little freckle covered nose.

How very brave you were that you weren't crying when you got to the phone to talk to me. The stuffiness caused by the injury nearly broke my heart. "Mama, it's not Tanner's fault. I knew better. I shouldn't have tried to take his bone away. Please don't be mad at him," you said.

I spent the next several minutes on the phone trying to comfort you from miles away. Trying not to allow myself to second guess my decision to let you go away for summer vacation without me.  You had done it so many times before and accidents can and do happen at home just as much as anywhere else.

I am preparing myself to make a maddening 220 mile trip to get to the ER when you are there although common sense tells me you would probably be out and back to the house before I ever got there.  The trip generally takes 3 to 3 1/2 hours on a normal day. We decided that if you needed me after you saw the dr. then I would come right away.

The next 2 hours were some of the most grueling times as a mother I have ever experienced. I am mommy and I am supposed to be there when my children cry. However, you weren't crying. In true Megan Beth fashion you had slipped into your cute little nurturer role and sat alternating between Cheryl and Bill's laps lightly tapping their backs trying to comfort them. You told me you did this so they would not cry.  I tried very hard but tears ran down my face. I hugged my big pillow and wished it were you.

Several hours into the by now what must have been 20 or so phone calls and texts I find out that you are watching animal planet and requesting purple stitches. I knew you would be ok at this point. Just as in the past you have always been a trooper and even more so since you had to settle for blue stitches instead of the purple ones you had wanted.

The next day you taught us all a lesson when you laid beside Tanner's kennel where he was locked up and stuck your finger through the cage to pet his nose. "Why did you do that Tanner?" You said, "You've never been that way before. You hurt me but even so I still love you."

Through all of that you still loved your best friend enough to forgive him for hurting you and through that I realize mistakes of all kinds do happen. If a 10 year old little girl can forgive that dog for scarring her for life physically but not scar her inside into fearing dogs I suppose I could stop a little in life and forgive those that may have hurt me.