Everything I have been going through for the past month has been processed by me with clear awareness of how my disabilities caused by the way infant-child abuse changed my development impacts on a continual basis how I can – and cannot – live my life. In a nutshell — this sucks!
Other than the big obvious, that I am completely exhausted by my travels north and back again, I was met with a nasty complication once I reached my home – my sanctuary. The woman who so kindly and competently took care of my home, my garden and my animals had to sadly report to me that the second night after I left my neighbors’ dogs scrambled over the fence and brutally mangled and killed 3 of my 5 hens.
This woman did not actually witness these dogs – a German shepherd and a pit-bull — kill the chickens. Neither she nor I will lie so that charges could be brought against the owners of these two dogs. However, on another day these two dogs were in the yard again. The shepherd was intent on killing my small dog. Both dogs came tearing around the corner of the house. My caretaker was knocked down by the big dog – yet she managed to scream at the dog loud enough it turned tail and ran, jumping back over the five foot chain link fence in the back that my yard shares with its owner.
The wire of my coop is also mangled in two places. I spoke with both owners. The immediate neighbor to my west, owner of the shepherd, laughed. The next neighbor over, owner of the pit bull, at least sincerely apologized. My caretaker had also watched the pit bull snatch a cat on the street out of the air as it tried to escape over a brick wall and tear it to pieces.
Neither dog was in its owner’s yard on Wednesday when I got home, and neither dog has been seen since. Nobody has offered restitution to me. All of this has been very very upsetting to me.
But what bothers me most is that because of the disabilities I in consequence of having been severely abused from my birth until I left home at age 18, I don’t have the ability to stick up for myself. I really, really don’t.
I have no idea what the ‘right’ thing to do is. I spoke with the county dog catcher who assured me that because the dogs were witnessed being in my yard that charges could be pressed for this, for the shepherd knocking my caretaker over and for that dog trying to kill my dog.
I can’t press charges. My anxiety will not allow me to do this. I could NEVER guarantee that my troubles with dissociation would not completely sabotage any effort I could make to be ‘reasonable’ while enduring the stress of dealing with a court situation.
I have nobody to do this for me. I can’t follow through and stick up for myself. I have NO IDEA how to do so, and NO ABILITY to do so even with an option such as pressing charges.
I miss my chickens. I imagine the horror of their undeserved vicious death. The two hens left are still stunned. They are not happy. My sanctuary has been violated. I did not need this, not one bit.
And I DO expect people to be NICE! I don’t understand myself why this is so. How could I, a person who experienced the horrors of such intense and constant abuse for the first 18 years of my life EVER believe that people are supposed to be nice?
I blame and shame myself for being angry at my neighbors. “How could you, Linda? You are never supposed to be angry!! You are supposed to be NICE! You are supposed to forgive.” I guess I think I am supposed to excuse the behavior of mean people.
Obviously, I am all tangled up. I do believe that people who were raised in good-enough infant-childhoods have the inner resources to deal with such things in far better ways than I can even imagine. All I can really do is suffer through whatever my reactive reactions are until enough time eventually goes by that this entire experience becomes history.
This sucks. But at least the dogs appear to have permanently gone away. I have not seen them since my return. My guess is that they ran out to the desert and became dinner themselves for some coyote gang. Or terrorized a ranch and got themselves shot. “YAY” for small blessings!
I can barely give myself permission to be angry at these blood thirsty dogs! There are just too many things to think about, too many angles — and I can’t even get ONE OF THEM RIGHT!
My neighbors have always let these dogs run. I knew that. I just didn’t ever guess things would get this bad.
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