Life Hurts Like Hell

My daughter called me in tears, she and my grandchildren had lost their last home and were going to have to go to a homeless shelter. She apologized for “being so mean to me” and asked me for gas money so that she and the kids could come live with me. Even though I was ill equipped to provide a safe home for the children as my home is a small (unfinished) cabin in the desert wilderness, I immediately said, "Yes!" (I had not heard from my daughter in over eight months and believed that I would never see my grandchildren, again.)

My beloved dog, Buckwheat, demonstrated quite a bit of patience with the kids for the two days that they stayed in my cabin. I bought an extra bed so that all of us would not have to sleep in the same room on the floor mattresses placed in the back room. I did everything I could to help. I was happy to have a family, again, and was on my BEST BEHAVIOR.

While putting sheets on the new bed, Buckwheat went to rest on my mattress in the back room and the kids piled on the bed with him, while my daughter watched. The next thing I heard was my daughter screaming, "Oh, my God!" (I found out later that Buckwheat had snapped at the middle child, leaving a red mark on the forehead. It is my thought that my grandson must have sat on the dog’s injured leg.)

I then heard Buckwheat yelping as my daughter then kicked the dog’s ribs and hip. She then tried to beat him to death in front of the kids. He escaped into the kitchen, where she caught and grabbed him around the throat with both hands, squeezing as hard as possible, and lifting him off of the floor. Buckwheat started to pass out. (My right wrist is broken) so I threw my upper body across my daughter’s forearms to force her to let go of the dog's throat. She screamed, "Get off of me!" Then she let go with one of her hands, grabbing my upper left arm in an effort to pull me off of her arms. This caused her to lose her other grip on Buckwheat. The dog then ran out the back door, now without a collar.

She pursued the dog out the back door. Running, Buckwheat ducked under the barbed-wire fence and dashed out into the desert.

My daughter then demanded to know "where the hell [her] cell or [my] cell phone was" – she was going to call the police and have them euthanize the dog. I insisted that I didn't know where either phone was. My daughter found her own phone, dialed 9-1-1, and reported "a vicious dog attack".

Buckwheat returned through the back door and I attempted to hide him in another room - but my daughter spotted us, pushed me down on the floor and grabbed the dog's throat, again, in an effort to strangle him. Buckwheat managed to squirm out of her grip and ran. My daughter started to give chase, but I grabbed her thigh (with my left hand) in an effort to stop her. She turned around and screamed. "How dare you grab me!" She then dug her fingers into my upper right arm and twisted it, viciously.

Finally, three Sheriff's cars and an ambulance arrived. Candace took the kids and met them in the front yard. I hid in the back room with the dog, until one of the Sheriff's officers called me out to assure me that Buckwheat would not be killed.

I didn’t press charges - but did demand that they LEAVE. I had to change my phone number to stop the threatening calls. I AM DEVASTED.

My grandchildren are now in the custody of their paternal grandparents (who are amazing people) in Texas. My daughter now lives two hours away from them with a friend.