Nagging Worries

Several incidents in my neighborhood over the last few weeks have made me question the wisdom of our move to the area. I'm sure I'm overreacting in the emotional rush of yesterday afternoon's events, but I've never lived somewhere that caused me to have worries and fears about my surroundings within conscious reach at all times.

The first event was tragic for a family that rents a house down the street from us. Their young adult son was gunned down at a suburban nightclub one night in June. While this didn't happen in the neighborhood, there were rumors that the murder was gang related and there was talk, that admittedly reached my ears as gossip, of retribution. Things have calmed down and the murderers were arrested, but worries of gang violence on my street have seeped in around the edges of my consciousness.

The second incident happened just two weeks ago when I saw a kid methodically breaking windows out of an empty house with his basketball. I called to Michael and he went out after the boy, who of course, took off running. I went out to the small group of adults congregating in front of the vandalized house only to discover the young boy's mother - he's 13 - had already dialed 911. She said she's called the police multiple times, hoping they will arrest her son, over whom she has no control. She doesn't know what to do and is worried that if he isn't stopped now by authorities and given some help that his criminal behavior will continue to escalate.

We went back home and also dialed 911. It was at least 30 minutes - probably more - after the boy's mother called and another 20 minutes before the police came to our door. And you know what? They came to our house first; not to the house that first dialed 911.

Apparently, they know the family and were in no hurry to answer their call.

I obviously don't know all the details of the situation, and the cop we talked to was likely right that the kid probably hadn't had the best of parenting. But he said the police don't believe arresting the kid is the right answer. It's the parents' responsibility.

I agreed with him, but told him that the mother is at the end of her rope and doesn't know what else to do. The boy already attends an alternative school and has a social worker. He promised to try to give her a list of resources for further help.

I find myself worried that this kid, who knows we called the police, will seek some kind of revenge. He's 13 now, breaking windows and shooting off bottle bombs in the street; what will he do when he's 15?

And finally, yesterday, when Michael, Stephen and I took Wally on his morning walk, we were attacked by a Rottweiler. Or rather, Wally was attacked. Seemingly out of nowhere, the Rottweiler dashed out from a backyard and went straight for our dog. I screamed "she's biting Wally" and was headed that way intending to hit it with my water bottle when Michael kicked the dog hard enough that it ran back into its yard.

We looked Wally over and he seemed fine, so after knocking on the owner's door and telling them their dog was loose, we went on home.

It wasn't until late in the afternoon that we noticed Wally was bleeding from a puncture wound high up on his side. Michael cleaned the wound and treated it with antibiotic ointment, then walked back over to let the people know our dog had been bitten.

Their reaction was one of nonchalance; I mean, they said they were sorry and they wouldn't put the dog out again, but we were concerned enough to call Animal Control. The officer looked at Wally's wound and took down all the pertinent information and said the Rottweiler would be quarantined for 10 days, as a precaution against rabies, and the owners would be warned and informed about properly securing their dog.

After a visit to the vet this morning, which included a shot of antibiotic and one of anti-inflammatory for pain and a 10-day prescription of antibiotics for Wally, I was relieved to know that he would be okay, but found myself quite shaken. The doctor shaved the area of the bite wound and now I can see how horrible it really is.

What if Michael hadn't been with me? I usually walk Wally alone on this 2 mile route. I think the Rottweiler would likely have killed him and could have turned on me. What if there had been a child involved?

Michael called Animal Control today to find out whether they had secured the dog, only to discover that the owners are, in the control officer's words "obviously hiding" it. I am afraid now to ever walk past that house, though we plan to continue checking to see when, or if, the dog returns.

I realize this kind of incident could have happened anywhere, but since we have moved to this neighborhood, the number of dogs running lose has been frightening. A different dog ran up and tried to bite Wally last fall on a walk with Michael. Eighteen months ago, two German Shepards killed my daughter's rabbit.

As I said earlier, I'm sure I am reacting out of emotion and irrationality right now.

But I hate this feeling of being a little worried and a little scared all the time.