My heart felt lodged in my throat as I yelled. I felt panicked, sweaty, scared, and helpless.  I was so focused on making sure my sweet girl, Perri was okay that the rest just blurred away.

I was in the middle of a dog attack.  No time for logic, just pure adrenalin and my response was toward flight, nor fight.

We’d been walking along the path in a city park, a route we’d taken hundreds of times before- our quick go to at the end of the evening.  Long enough for Perri to do all her doggie business, but not so long I felt like I needed to take a shower after our jaunt, no breaking a sweat on our 15 minute stroll.

I usually let my mind wander, oblivious to all the goings on in the neighborhood, just a girl and her dog, the best of friends, enjoying a bit of time together.

My first clue something was wrong was the man yelling for his dog to return.  I looked over and a dog was approaching, but she wasn’t the one I should’ve been worried about. 

I’m a dog pro- I mean I can figure out the signs whether a canine is friend or foe.  This old girl with her gray muzzle and slow lumbering walk looked pretty harmless- unfortunately she was the decoy.  Her packmate, came out of nowhere- all flashing teeth, hair raised along the back of her spine.  My doggie senses were screaming “Danger! Danger!”

Perri’s petite enough to scoop up, although her 35 pounds sometimes feels more like 50, but that’s probably more related to my lack of upper body strength than her girth.  There was no time to protect my sweet girl, the next thing I knew she was yelping and I was in the middle of a one side dog attack. 

I found myself yelling for the owner, a man who had been raking some fall leaves, to get control of his dogs.  He eventually jogged over and then informed me that the attack was my fault.  Yep-my fault (WTF?).

Apparently, my yelling just egged his dog on.  Never mind that his dogs weren’t constrained by leashes, a fence or electric collars. It didn’t matter that his dogs ran 30 yards into a public park.  No- I got a lecture on how I should’ve been less emotional. 

Really?

Like if someone is attacking your sweet furry one, your first thought is “I need to be calm, take a breath, don’t react and just let this dog ravage mine.”  Seriously?

No repentance, no apology.  I asked what he’d do if his dog attacked one that fought back, and his response was that maybe his dog would learn to stay in the yard.  How messed up is that?

As I walked home on shaky limbs with a traumatized animal, I thought about the situation.  I should forgive this arrogant know it all for his own ignorance.  After all there are no bad dogs, just bad owners.  I tried every spiritual tool I knew, trying to get to that place where I could let it go.  I, oh so, wanted to be above the fray, the better person, to turn the other cheek.

Instead I called the cops.

At first it felt a little petty, but then I thought about other people I know who walk their dogs by that home and in the Park.  What if my daughter had been the one holding the leash and she was caught in the dog fight?  No, I needed to report the incident.

So, yea, I sicced the cops on him. 

I discovered the next morning that Perri had been bitten, there were two puncture holes, abrasions and bruises.  I took her to the vet to be looked at and they had to shave her.  Poor girl, no lady likes having a bald spot!  I gave the vet report to the cops and crossed my fingers that the dog who bit her was vaccinated.

24 hours later and I was still struggling with the incident- it had wormed its way into my heart.  Man, I wanted to get past it, forgive and move on, but my internal mama bear had reared her head and was roaring.

Then I notice a quote by Danielle LaPorte in my planner.

“Forgive yourself for not wanting to forgive.”

It was a lifeline.  I can do that- I can forgive me for holding onto my anger, frustration, and outrage.

I’m not ready to let it go, it’s still too fresh.  But I’m ready to let go of my frustration with myself, the expectation that I had to do something I wasn’t ready for.  I could easily throw away the feelings of inadequacy, guilt, and shame.

I can forgive me for not wanting to forgive him.  I can sit with all my feeling related to the attack and let the go through their natural progression.  I don’t need to force myself to do something, especially when I know I’m not going to be sincere.

So, I’m accepting my own emotions, letting them flow through me and knowing that it’s okay.  Because I forgave me.  And who knows maybe in the future I’ll forgive Mr. It’s Not My fault, but Yours.

If there’s been an incident or situation in your life that’s eating away at your soul and you’re not ready to forgive, and forgetting is just as unlikely- stop beating yourself up.  Forgive yourself for not wanting to forgive.  Show self compassion and let the rest, do just that…rest.

It’s a gentle way, full of grace and can set you up for taking that final step toward forgiveness in your own time, when you’re emotionally and spiritually ready.  Forgiveness releases us and when done from the heart can bring a sense of freedom and relief, but only if you’re truly ready.

Forgiving yourself for not wanting to forgive, is a step in the direction you want to go.  It eases the emotions directed at you by you, allowing you to shift your perspective and be open to the healing process.  It brings comfort because you accept and acknowledge your humanity.  It provides an alternative to beating yourself up for what you should do.

We’re all human, we all get angry, disappointed, frightened and we either lash out or are on the receiving end of someone else’s drama.  This one tool can make navigating life, a bit easier.  Whether you’re on the receiving or giving side, know that you can always forgive yourself…even if you don’t want to forgive the other person.