Best Friends and Compound Miter Saws

Fudge is Big BK's favorite friend. He is a small blue dog, Carter's brand, purchased by my angel BK and myself somewhere in Columbus, OH while I was pregnant with Big BK and Angel BK was doing radiation treatments. He is, quite honestly, my child's best friend in the entire world. He travels with him, sleeps with him, watches tv with him, rests in the bathroom while my son is in the shower. He's very important. His name is Fudge because Angel BK's best friend was named Sprinkles. There are two more friends, Butterscotch and Peanut. They're all named for ice cream toppings. :)

Sometime during the Christmas break, my hubby left the house to go to the store. I was sitting on the rocking chair in the family room. Big BK was playing in the basement, where his daddy had left him. It was about 2:00  in the afternoon. I heard a noise. It lasted about 3 seconds. Wrrrrrr! That was all. 3 seconds. Then I heard my child screaming like he'd been stabbed in the eye. My heart dropped completely to the bottom of my feet. I started hollering (that's  how we say yelling), "Are you okay?" as I threw open the basement door and ran down the stairs.

He was crying and was nearly incoherent. "Fudge got cutted! Fudge got cutted!" he repeated.

"Did you get cutted?" I demanded as he finally came into sight.

"No! Fudge got cutted! Fudge got cutted!" he was stumbling across the basement at this point, his arm outstretched, a nearly decapitated Fudge in his hand.

"What happened?" I demanded but I knew what had happened. Hubby's compound miter saw was sitting on the floor. (This is a compound miter saw, for those of you that don't know.) I could see little tufts of stuffing sticking out of the base of the miter saw. 

"Fudge got cutted!" was the only response I got. Tears streamed down his face. He was devastated. Fudge's little head, which is, at most, 6 inches in circumference, was gashed open from one eye, completely across his head to well past the other eye. "Fudge got cutted!"

I was breathing a little easier at this time, seeing that he was actually okay and hadn't lost any important appendage. He was starting to calm down but not much. I looked Fudge over and determined that he was not ready to be buried just yet. I thought I could fix him. I told him that.

"Fix him, Mommy. Fix him," Big BK commanded. Hey, I'm a good girl from way back, I do what I'm told.

We found some thread and a needle and sat on the rocking chair together. As I began to suture Fudge's injury I began to laugh. It wasn't funny when I heard that saw. My child was now traumatized-he'd seen his best friend nearly torn to shreds. That wasn't funny either. Well, for a better mommy it wouldn't have been. The more I thought about it the more I laughed. I laughed until I had tears in my eyes. I laughed when I repeated the story to everyone.

I admit that I don't come out looking good in the story. I was watching television while my child was operating a piece of construction equipment. In my defense, I didn't know it was accessible to him and hubby had unplugged it before he'd left.

Big BK was so traumatized that he refused to talk about it. He didn't want Poppaw to see it. He still won't talk about it. That day though, after the fright wore off, I laughed harder than I'd ever laughed in my entire life.

Epilogue

Fudge is doing fine though he did lose one eye. He was permitted to be cleaned for the first time since his accident just the other day and he survived. He is expected to fully recover. Though he has not been diagnosed, it is suspected that he suffers from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Big BK still refuses to talk about it. We may never know what actually occurred int he basement that cold January day. I would guess that my child was acting out of some kind of self-defense. I don't believe my son would have maliciously wounded his closest friend without just cause. Neither of them is talking though and until one of them comes clean, it will remain a mystery. :)