Bailey

We were supposed to go to the beach. But we didn't. Towmy was supposed to go with us, but he wouldn't. Rolf had been complaining bitterly about being away so much this summer that we hadn't done any work on our own house or on the Richmond Project. Which is our house in the slums of Richmond. Which we were to renovate and sell last April. And we didn't.

I was also supposed to go to a family reunion at my parents house on Saturday, but we didn't.

What we did was fine and good and fun, until the attack.

After we'd finished our Saturday morning travels to the Farmer's Market and department store, we came home and started to work on the front of the house. We're going to have to refinance the house to secure funds to finish the Richmond Project - or else we're going to go bust.

I brought Bailey (who I've previously called d'Ohgy, but that doesn't seem fun now) out, and tied her to the maple tree while Rolf and I worked on shearing overgrown boxwoods. A gentle white and faun colored greyhound; she looked like a moving statue sitting so stately and gracefully in the shade.

I looked up from the hedge we were working on and saw the jerk Harvey and his aggressive dog walking down the sidewalk.

He greeted me cheerfully - "Hello".

I don't like him. But I am nice, mostly always nice.

"Hello," I said. "Bailey is in the front yard. Would you please cross to the other side of the street because your dog is 'agressive when she's on a leash.' "

And he looked me in the face and walked right around me and the pile of brush that was between us. Rolf turned his attention back to the hedge, because he thought that Harvey and Sunshine was crossing the street - but he didn't he just walked toward the road and back around me and I watched has he walked down the sidewalk. Sunshine was walking on his left. I noted that Harvey was holding the retractable leash in his right hand, and also holding the leash rope in his left as it crossed his body while Sunshine stopped to pee. I thought he was holding the rope when Sunshine bolted past him and into my yard while he just watched to see, not where she was headed, but just where she was going. And he reacted with dim awareness when Sunshine was attacking Bailey. She had been asleep.

I raced toward Harvey, intending to spear him in the neck with the loppers; Rolf ran toward the dogs, intending to kick the shit out of Sunshine. But the attack was over before we got to kill anyone. Bailey was standing on three legs, trying to stand on two.

Harvey says: "I didn't know she was there, I didn't even see her"

Rolf - "How could you not know she was there,?" he screamed. "He told you she was there and told you to cross the street!"

Me - "I TOLD YOU YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE - I TOLD YOU SHE WAS IN THE FRONT YARD AND I TOLD YOU TO CROSS THE STREET YOU IDIOT! I AM CALLING THE POLICE RIGHT NOW"

Harvey, whining "Oh don't call the police."

Me - "YOU FUCKING IDIOT I TOLD YOU TO TAKE YOUR VICIOUS DOG TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE STREET! DAMN RIGHT I'M . . '

Rolf - "COME ON, WE HAVE TO GO THE VET RIGHT NOW!"

. . . CALLING THE POLICE! GET OFF MY PROPERTY. I'M GOING TO GET YOU PUT IN JAIL!"

WE HAVE TO GO!

ME, ON CELL PHONE: "MY DOG WAS ATTACKED. NO! THE ATTACKER WAS ON A LEASH!

GET YOUR KEYS!

NO! WE'RE HEADED TO THE ANIMAL HOSPITAL RIGHT NOW.

WE NEED BLANKETS FOR THE BLOOD, WHICH CAR ARE WE TAKING?!

Harvey, now in front of the neighbor's yard, pointing at Sunshine who is sitting: "I told you "no biting."

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Injuries are extensive, but there are no internal injuries to her organs. She has three pairs of drains, a pair in each wound. The wounds are horrible, and that's just what you can see on the outside. She is eleven years old. The possibility of infection is high. If she get's an infection, she will require another surgery - with general anesthesia - which is extraordinarily dangerous for greyhounds in itself. An infection could cause her leg to be amputated.

Harvey was issued a dangerous dog summons last night. Court is on Friday, September 21, unless he surrenders the dog for euthanasia beforehand.

I was afraid to go out of my house yesterday. I put up a "No Trespassing" sign. And I waited for the phone calls. The surgeon, the animal control officer, the police . . . and I expected Harvey to show up on the doorstep to apologize . . . but the trauma was just too much. I put the sign on the door, and another one that said "Bailey was attacked. I do not wish to speak to her attacker. All other's are welcome." And then I felt safe.

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My administrative assistant quit on Friday, and will not be back. I just found out. My boss says I can take one day off this week, and no more. Rehearsals begin full time for The Last Five Years, tonight. And I need a lawyer.

Somehow, I need to get a lot of work done now.

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