Let me start by admitting something upfront: I’ve never really been a dog person. I’ve always felt nervous around them. Before my first son was born, I had an adorable Yorkie who I treated like my own child. But when she started trying to “protect” the baby, I immediately asked my mom if she could take her. It was too much for me to manage alongside a newborn.
When I became pregnant with my second son, we faced another heartbreaking decision. Our Australian Shepherd had to be rehomed after biting my husband in the face during a routine check of her fur. Despite my nervousness around dogs, over the years I had grown fond of that dog, and I’ve always admired her gentle, anxious personality—so similar to mine.
My husband’s parents are true dog lovers. They have four dogs: a Golden Retriever, an Australian Shepherd, and two Dachshunds. Over time, I grew very attached to the Shepherd, who reminded me of myself in many ways. My in-laws have also been an incredible support system for our family, helping with our three boys whenever we needed. Recently, they moved into a new home just a few miles away.
On July 4th, my second son celebrated his 2nd birthday. My husband had to work, so I loaded up our three little ones—the 6-year-old, the 2-year-old, and the 8-month-old—to watch the fireworks. Afterward, I offered to let the two oldest spend the night at their grandparents’ house. With three children under six, a little break is always necessary.
The next morning, my husband and I were sitting together, enjoying a rare quiet cup of coffee, when his phone rang. It was his dad. “We’re on our way to the hospital. A lamp fell on [your son]. It’s bad.” At first, I tried to stay calm, assuming grandparents often overreact. But as we drove to the hospital, a sense of dread washed over me, and I asked my husband to drop me off at the entrance.
Inside, I found my sweet boy covered in blood. Four large lacerations marred his forehead, nose, and cheek. His grandmother was rocking him frantically, panic written all over her face. They explained that they had stepped away for just a moment while letting the dogs out, and my oldest son had come running to them. When they returned, the lamp was on the floor beside my son. Doctors quickly cleaned, stitched, and medicated him, and we went home, thinking the nightmare was behind us.
But later that night, messages from friends made me pause. Some wondered if the wounds looked more like a dog bite than a lamp accident. My heart sank. I went into my boys’ room and found my son running a fever of 103. Within hours, we were back at the hospital. By then, his eyes were swollen shut. The doctors agreed the injuries resembled a dog bite and admitted him for IV antibiotics. We spent two agonizing days in the hospital, watching our little boy struggle to see and understand what was happening. It was the single worst experience of our lives as parents.
We had to confront a hard truth: one of the family dogs might have been responsible. I gently asked my oldest son, who has high-functioning autism and limited speech, to explain what happened. Eventually, he revealed that the Australian Shepherd had darted back inside when his grandmother was letting the dogs out. My toddler tried to play with her, and she bit him. The attack startled the Retriever, who bumped the table and knocked the lamp onto him.
Looking back, I don’t think anyone had realized the dogs could cause such chaos. To dog lovers, these animals are their children. This experience taught me the absolute necessity of keeping small children separated from even family pets. At first, I was angry, but with time, I realized how quickly life can change in just seconds. Our son could have lost his life that day.
We learned a painful but important lesson: animals, no matter how calm or trained, are still animals. Teaching children to respect and safely interact with them must be a priority. And if an injury occurs, always consider the possibility of animal involvement immediately—waiting can put recovery and safety at risk. Thankfully, our little boy is healing, and with God’s grace, he will hopefully carry no memory of the trauma. We are endlessly thankful for that blessing.
