When Diva Gets Angry-- Really, Really Angry...

This morning started off relatively normal - I braided Kady's hair, flat-ironed Ab's, made sure everyone was medicated, brushed, shoed and backpacked. Cousin Courtney arrived with Tots One and Two, then came in with Nonner and sat down to visit for a few minutes as I sent the kids down to the end of the driveway to catch the bus. Kisses and hugs and calls to "Have a good day!" and then the house was free of kid-noise, other than the grunts and noises of the most precious two-month on the planet. We visited for awhile, then it was time for her to go. I hadn't realized how foggy it was until I saw Courtney driving down the driveway and saw her truck quickly almost disappear. I hate foggy mornings because I watch the kids until the bus comes and if I can't see them I worry. However, usually foggy mornings are quiet mornings and I could hear them.

Then, as I stood on the porch bouncing Nonner, I realized that the sounds I was hearing were bawls, squalls and general crying from my youngest child. Now, you've probably gleaned from previous posts that Kady is a drama queen deluxe. She cries at the drop of a hat and even though Tater has told her repeatedly that you're only alotted so many tears in your life and she really should save some for you know, like when her children are born and stuff like that, she still cries a lot. I immediately figured someone had hurt her overly-sensitive feelings or maybe she'd fallen and had hurt her knee. Then I heard someone holler "Biscuit!" and then my thoughts turned to cursing that puppy because evidently he had knocked her over, tried to eat her capris (because he is convinced that all pants are food) or had engaged her in a friendly game of before-school tug-o-backpack.

When my phone rang, I automatically knew it was Courtney and that she was going to tell me Kady needed a bandaid or that her pants were covered in muddy pawprints and could I run her down a clean pair? I mean, I knew that was it. Until her reply to my hello was, "Biscuit's been hit." All the times I had called him a stupid dog for chewing on everything from the lawnmower wires and flipflops to the kittens I immediately felt awful for doing. I asked, "...is he alive?" She confirmed that he was, but then quickly added, "The kids are really upset." I could hear the wailing and gnashing of teeth and was expecting someone to holler for sackcloth and ashes, so I said, "Just send them back up to the house. I'll just take them to school and I'll send Paul down to take care of the dog." I heard her telling the kids to head back to the house and then when they were out of earshot, between driveway and house, we talked. She said she'd tried to move him but he'd growled and she didn't want to get bit, something I totally didn't blame her for. But as the bus approached, he got up and walked out of the road. She waved the bus on and kept an eye on Biscuit while Paul put on clothes. By then the kids were up here and all five of them were crying, so I hung up the phone with her and proceeded to hug and soothe mine and Tater's kids.

The fact that Biscuit had moved himself out of the road was reassuring to me and I tried to pass that on to the kids. As soon as they saw my hope they instantly got angry, Abby especially. She's nearly 12 and virtually perpetually angry anyway, but oh man, was she mad this morning. Eventually, trying to filter five separate accounts of the accident, we gleaned that the car was a white hatchback and was driving very fast, so fast that Abby had made the kids move back as she saw it approaching and that while Biscuit had been in the road, he wasn't in the middle of the road, he had been sniffing something in the ditch. The car clipped him and threw him into the air. All while the kids watched. Then Ab added angrily, "And Mom, they didn't even hit the brakes! They just flew on by!"

Now, we live in the country and well, dogs get hit (Jude), meet their maker when they bite their owner (Max), get snakebit (Little Dog), run away to find a girlfriend because oops, we kind of forgot to get him neutered (Jake) and that's just a way of life. We aren't dog fanatics, but at the same time we are relatively responsible dog owners and even when they use kittens as chew toys (Biscuit), we still kind of like them. And the kids love them unconditionally, kitten chew toys aside. But the fact that some jerkface:

a) drove fast down my dirt road
b) drove fast down my dirt road on a foggy morning
c) drove fast down my dirt road on a foggy morning AT BUS TIME
d) did all of the above, hit our dog IN FRONT OF OUR CHILDREN and didn't even stop

...well......I'm angry. Really, really angry.

We have several notoriously fast-driving neighbors and one of those drives a white car. We don't particularly get along with these neighbors anyway, so Paul drove to her place of work and confronted her. Did I agree with this? No, not at all, but he's a big boy and I'm not the boss of him. Well, most of the time. Anyway, she denied hitting Biscuit, said she was clocked in by 7:30 and that she's an avid animal lover and would never do such a horrid thing. However, since Paul has connections at her place of work, he had a manager check the clock and she didn't clock in until 7:59. Now, whether it was her that hit Biscuit or not, we don't know, but rest assured that this evening we're all going on a little drive. I guarantee you that the kids will be able to pick the car right out of someone's driveway.

It's noon now and Biscuit has made the 1/10th of a mile trek from road to house. At first he wouldn't let either of us near him and crawled under the van to hide, but now he's up here on the porch. He's very shaky and extremely lethargic, but considering he's usually going 900mph running around us, chewing our pants and trying to lick our ears, I'm sure the contrast is more pronounced. I would imagine he's a little sore and frankly, probably feels like he's been hit by a car. I've been emailing Kady's teacher all morning with updates. Kady's been so upset she had to use her inhaler, which her asthma was already threatening to flare up anyway, but then add some doggie stress and well, it's no wonder. Bless her heart.

Ah, country living.