Dear Kitty,

Dear Kitty,

Since the day that Amadeus the horse came to live with us, I have worried about our dog, Deogi. He’s territorial and desires to defend his property against intruders. Normally he is a formidable opponent, except when that opponent weighs 100s of pounds more.

We’ve taken great precautions to make sure the two never meet without a fence between them, because we just knew what would happen when the loyal family pet met the stallion.

Yesterday Brian and I were going up to the barn to check on barn kitty food and other items when out of the corner of my eye I saw something that made me want to throw up; Deogi slipped in-between the gate and the fence. He was quickly, but cautiously approaching Amadeus. I don’t care how you want to look it; this situation couldn’t end well.

I went running towards the two with the conflicting feeling of wanting to pull the two apart and wanting to bury my face in Brian’s chest to not watch the outcome my mind was playing out.

Some stomping and a few kicks later, Deogi was free of Amadeus’ hooves and high tailing it back to the gate. I scooted out with him and checked him over. A nice cut to the chest and some humbleness looks to be the only damage Deogi suffered, but it could have been so much worse.

So many times in our lives we are aware of a dangerous or hurtful situation and even though we think we have taken the necessary precautions, certain things can’t be avoided and we just try to minimize the damage. Wanting to stop it and wanting to hide from it at the same time.

Sometimes though things pop up that we never expected and never prepared for. How do we manage it through those times when we get surprised with a kick to the chest by life?

For a long time I went through the process of preparing for every facet of being a single parent. It wasn’t what I intended to do when I gave birth to the three girls, but I learned that is where life was going to take us and I got ready for it to the best of my ability. It was all planned in my mind and I could possibly handle it.

Then a chest kick and I wasn’t just a single parent, but a widow trying to figure out life without a co-parent of any form.

I can’t say I handled it with grace for a while, but I think that may be part of the best way of dealing with it. It’s getting the kick and hightailing it to the “safe zone” to check how bad you got damaged. Taking that time to acknowledge the hurt and catch your breath knowing that it still hurts, but you are out of immediate danger.

What helped me the most was looking at one minute and focusing only on that 60 seconds. I couldn’t bring myself to look at even an hour past and know what was going to happen, but I could handle one minute. For that one minute I had small goals. Breathe, start a game with the kids, begin a phone call, etc. As time went by and I found that I could successfully handle one minute, I added a minute, a hour, a day and a week.

…and frankly…slowly I got momentum built up and I could handle more and more.

 



Categories: October Diary Entry

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