As a parent, I have sat down and read Facebook articles about something tragic happening to a child. You sit there, your heart just breaks for them and their family.

As I write this, in tears, I never once thought it would be me and my family. I never once thought I would be a parent of a 3-year-old little boy that has been mutilated by a dog.

On Sunday, my husband and I were trying to clean and reorganize our tiny home. So we sent our 14-year-old (Gracye) and 10-year-old (Tristan) with our 3-year-old (Alaric) outside. We kept our almost 2-year-old inside, as it may have been too much for the older ones. We wanted them to have some outside time so that Alaric could burn some energy off. If anyone knows how toddlers get, you understand. Well, they came inside for a drink, and we told them that we were almost done.

That’s when my nightmare began. Tristan comes screaming that Alaric was getting attacked. Next thing I know, I am screaming for help, holding my son’s ear and his face to my chest, trying to hold his face together, watching the amount of blood coming out of him. All I could hear was the sound of him screaming. Then he starts going in and out of consciousness. I thought my son was gone; I thought I lost him. I went into numb mom mode, trying to keep him awake, trying to make sure he’s still breathing. Just waiting. Waiting for help!

Finally, help arrives. I show them and explain what happened to my son. They get us to the helicopter, and we’re off, being rushed to save my baby's life. It is an emotional and heart-wrenching experience I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. I know he was breaking. But watching the monitor, listening to the beeping, listening to everything around, watching your son literally fighting for his life, I'm sitting there thinking, I am holding my son’s beautiful face together with my hands and chest. The face I made in my belly. The face that I kiss goodnight. The face that can make me question my sanity in an hour. It is the most surreal, quiet moment. A moment where you question if it's even happening; is this real?

We finally arrived at the hospital; they rush Alaric back for emergency surgery to put his ear back together on his face. The hardest part should be done with, right? No. It was the aftermath of it. The shock setting in. I stood there, not realizing I was covered in my 3-year-old's blood. By that time, my mom had gotten my kids, and my husband was there handing me clothes; that’s when I broke. That’s when I felt everything, it all hitting me at once. That’s when the processing began. That’s when I had to go into this tiny little bathroom, that felt like the walls were closing in, and scrub the blood of my child off of me. I do not wish that upon any parent. The helplessness. The disbelief. The god, please save my baby. The what-ifs. The self-regret. The it should have been me's. The everything.

By the grace of God, my son’s ear was attached back to his face, and his face sewn up.They closed up all the large lacerations. Thank you, God. Altogether, my son got 60 to 80 stitches. I am so grateful that my son is alive. I am thankful my son is recovering. I sit here and think about all the parents who aren't that lucky, and my heart aches for them.

Now the dog, he lives right behind us. They had him on a runner. but the owner's mom sat there. The owner of the dog was doing his laundry on the other side of the property. We rent a house on the property with them. But I am in the house, they are in the camper. She knew how the dog was and how aggressive it can be, and did absolutely nothing when she realized the dog had already attacked my son. She never once yelled or even tried to redirect the dog. Instead, she got up and went in her house. Our 10-year-old son is the one that got the dog off of his brother. He escaped with only emotional trauma.

After everything, the mom blamed my son, a 3-year-old little boy, helpless at the point of attack. She says that she made sure that she helped the dog off my son. Unfortunately, the son is the one that came running, the son is the one in tears and just beside himself about what happened to my son. What his dog did. Unfortunately, he is also the one we have to go to court with. He’s the one that got the tickets and she's the one that did nothing and blamed everything on a simple 3-year-old. He’s the one that’s completely distraught by this whole situation.

I’m trying to navigate everything in the best interest of our family.

So, after debating and arguing with myself, I am officially asking for help. My son’s medical bills will be coming in soon, though he has insurance, it is only going to cover a little bit of it. The realization has set in that the bills don’t stop because of a tragedy. We have appointments after appointments that are over an hour away. We have to give the caregiver money for watching our 2 year old. for appointments and drive time. Gas. Food. Everything. So I am asking for help, for my family. We both had full-time jobs, but we took time off to make sure our son recovers.

I have been trying to fix my credit to buy a place, but that’s near impossible. My goal is to try to find something that suits our family better, but I am doing the best we can with what we have.

In all of this, I say, thank you. Thank you for your time, thank you for reading our story. We appreciate any and all donations that are given. And we ask if you cannot help monetarily, if you could, please just share this page. My family ultimately deserves the best, and I will always give them the best that I can offer.

Thank you!