We had a scary moment this weekend. It was one of those moments when I can totally understand stories about mothers picking up school buses to rescue their children.
This story isn’t nearly that dramatic, which I tell you, only so you won’t be disappointed when you read through to the end (if you’re still sticking with me) and find that I didn’t heave any vehicles, or perform any other amazing feats of strength.
The story begins with an invitation to brunch at a friend’s house.
I’ll be honest with you. I didn’t want to go. I don’t really enjoy parties, and I knew that the group of people who would be attending were, well… they’re at a different place in their lives. They were gathering for brunch (past noon, so more like late lunch) and they all brought booze.
Now, I have no problem with adults drinking adult beverages. But, when a group of adults come together to eat and drink adult beverages, they do not have in mind spending their time with a toddler. I knew that. Tom knew that. But the person throwing the brunch/late lunch is one of my best (read: only) friends, and I had already blown off one of her recent parties, so I was feeling guilty, and I thought that a party on Sunday afternoon would be pretty tame. And it was. We had a nice time, and some great food, which the hostess graciously made gluten-free for me.
But in among the nice time was a scary moment, which is what this post is about.
Emmy loves animals. She has thoroughly enjoyed trips to the zoo and the aquarium (I still want to spell that with a “c” somewhere in there), but even more than that, she loves petting animals. When we visit people with pets, she loves to make friends, especially with the dogs.
So, when we found out that our party hostess, A, had a new dog, we knew Emmy would love to meet him. The dog, who had just arrived on Friday, was acclimating in the basement, so we went down to see him. Tom and Emmy were hanging with the dog, and A and I had wandered back towards the stairs, chatting. Suddenly, I heard a sharp bark and a baby squeal. The dog had, up to that moment, been silent and quite docile, while I had petted his head and let him smell me and Emmy.
When I heard that bark, I dashed back to where Emmy was. When I came through the doorway, I saw my little girl darting back, while the dog was trying to get to her and my husband was between them. All I wanted was to snatch Emmy up, but I had a dog and Tom between me and her. Tom wasn’t grabbing Emmy because he would have to turn his back on the dog to pick her up, and the dog could easily dart past him before he could scoop her up.
So, in that instant, less than a second, my brain realized that I couldn’t pick her up because I was too far away, and Tom couldn’t pick her up because he was keeping the dog from her. And then CLICK, my brain realized that I could eliminate the thing keeping Tom from picking her up. So I grabbed the dog around the neck (gently) and held him in place. This allowed Tom to pick up our terrified child.
When we got back upstairs, Tom and I had a quick conversation. I told him that all I had wanted was to scoop Emmy up, but I realized that the better action was to grab the dog, and then he could scoop Emmy up. We did this in under 3 seconds, with nary a word of communication. I was super proud of our parenting teamwork. We high-fived.
I don’t know exactly what happened, because I didn’t see it, and Emmy doesn’t talk, but I think the dog just did something that startled her and when she started to back away, the dog saw it as an initiation of play-time, so he moved to follow. Following her scared her even more, so she kept moving, which made the dog keep following, escalating Emmy’s fear. When Tom moved to block the dog, the dog thought it was just part of the game.
I don’t believe Emmy was ever in any danger from the dog. His tail was wagging the whole time, and it was just a misunderstanding between them. But, here’s the part where I understand the bus-lifting. When I grabbed the dog, I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT WAS HAPPENING. I didn’t know if the dog was angry, or snarling, or about to bite. I didn’t know anything but that the moving dog was the reason my baby couldn’t be picked up and comforted. So I grabbed the dog. If the dog had been angry, grabbing it might have made him more so. Grabbing him around the neck might have resulted in me getting bitten. But my brain didn’t register that danger, at least not enough to stop me. And so, to a small degree, I understand trying to lift a bus despite the obvious reasons not to try it. That’s your kid. Reason doesn’t enter into the equation.
My only worry now is that Emmy will be afraid of dogs. We tried to get her near A’s dog again before we left, and she was fine, as long as Tom was holding her, but when he tried to set her down so she could pet the dog, she started to cry. Hopefully, she’ll forget about it before the next time we have an opportunity to play with a puppy.
