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The Day She Unleashed Hell

I'm back, but none of the llamas are surprised. I'm now taking name suggestions because apparently this is never going to be over. If you need a little history lesson, check my post history for full details and here's a TL;DR. My mother went psycho over my decision to terminate a pregnancy. She sent me a card from my unborn fetus for Mother's Day, and when she didn't get a response from me, she drove 12 hours to ambush BF and I in the driveway. Yayyyy.
So after we ran her off our property, and heeding the advice of you lovely llamas here, we had a long discussion about what we needed to do to protect ourselves from her insanity. I'm a list person, so we debated pros and cons for the better part of two hours. We agreed we were in need of security cameras and installed those as soon as we were able. We were both hesitant about moving, we love our location and we waited a long time for this house so we've added this to the "in case of emergency" docket. At the suggestion of one of you angels, I bought a copy of "How to Disappear" and have been dog-earing it frequently. But so far that's all that had changed since we saw her last.
This past Friday I was having a really shitty day. My boss was in uncommonly frantic form and when he's stressed, I'm stressed. I'm halfway through my lunch (aka shoveling salad into my face while I reply to emails) when my cell phone starts ringing. It's a number I don't recognize, plus my phone had been going off all morning with email alerts so I let it go to voicemail and try to keep working. Five minutes later, it's the same number calling again, but I'm under the gun and I get solicitors calling often (I registered with the Do Not Call List, what gives??) so I screen the call and send it straight to voicemail. Not even a minute later, they're calling again so I finally answer.
"This is No-Name"
"Hi, umm so do you have red and white hound dog?"
*Completely taken aback* "Umm yes, what is this regarding?"
"Okay well I think he got out of your yard or something because he's sitting in the front seat of my pick-up."
"WHAT. WHERE. HOW. WHERE ARE YOU?"
"Hey it's ok! I'm at (address two blocks from our house) near the Starbucks."
"I'm on my way! Don't go anywhere!"
"OK, but hurry."
I have a 35 minute commute to work, so I tell my (already irate) boss that there's an emergency and I have to go home for an hour. I'm already frantic, I love my dogs more than I think I could ever love human children and they've been there for me through the worst parts of my life. On the drive there I'm going over and over in my mind how he possibly could've gotten loose. BF left for work about an hour after I did. Whenever we leave the dogs alone, both of them stay inside the house in their crates. I'm checking my phone and realize that the alerts I was getting this morning were not work emails, and I should've been paying attention. They were security camera alerts with video bursts of a certain psycho formerly known as MY MOM looking all around the entryway. She's lifting our planters and welcome mat, running her hands along the rafter boards above the door and searching all around. It's clear to me she's checking for a spare key (like I'd be that stupid) and when she finds nothing, she disappears around the side of the house. Back door camera gets a beautiful shot of her lobbing a garden rock through the glass panes in the door before she gets inside. Cameras catch her leaving again around 20 minutes later, leaving the back door wide open. The last alert I got was the dogs sprinting for freedom, about 10 minutes after she'd left.
So of course, I'm losing my shit. I don't know what to do, do I need to go home first, or do I go get my dog? WHERE is my other dog? Does this man know my mother? Is she trying to trap me? At a loss, I call 911 and report my home being broken into. I tell them that I'd also like an officer to meet me at the address given by the man who called about my dog and I get there just before the officer shows up. Officer looks like he belongs in a Rambo movie and has the meanest look on his face I've ever seen, but when I approach him his expression softens. I start to explain to him what's going on and why I asked him to meet me when he cuts me off. "Don't worry, I'm aware of the situation. Why don't you go ahead and call this guy back and we'll go get your dog. He doesn't bite, does he?" Thank god for cops with empathy, I was shaking at this point. I call the man back and he tells me he's in a black Silverado which I locate immediately across the parking lot. I can see my dog in the cab, he's panting next to a mid-50s looking guy with salt-and-pepper hair. Officer Rambo and I walk slowly over to the truck, and Salt-and-Pepper hair guy looks a little concerned when he catches sight of the policeman with me. "Uh oh, this dog must belong to someone important!" he says nervously.
Officer Rambo wastes no time and launches into interview mode. The man explains he found my dog around the playground area inside our neighborhood and got my phone number off his tags. Officer asks him about his own whereabouts during the time of the break-in and Salt-and-Pepper guy looks perplexed. "I found him and I called, that's all I know. I was on my way home for lunch and I noticed the poor guy limping, so I looped a cord around him and called his momma. Sweet dog, don't know what happened to him before then. I figure he's gonna need a vet, his feet are hurting him awful."
My head whips around, my panic renewed as I try to assess Bo's injury. Officer Rambo goes and lets my boy out of the front seat and when he jumps down he yelps and rolls off his onto his side. I grab his foot carefully and try to get a good look at it, but my poor dog is yelping and crying whenever I try and I see blood leaking out and staining his white fur. All the blood is rushing to my face at this point and I can't contain the angry tears that fall. Interview complete, Officer Rambo offers to follow me back to my house. I ask if he can follow me while take my dog to a veterinarian first and we get there within 15 minutes. Waiting to check in at the vet, I call my boss and apologize profusely for leaving him in the lurch, but I won't be returning to work today. Then I call BF and explain as calmly as I can what's going on and ask if anyone has called about our other dog. He says no, but that he's leaving work early so he can come home and help.
Leaving Bo at the vet's office, I make it explicitly clear to the vet techs that he is not to be released to anyone except me personally. Paranoia has set in pretty hard and nowhere is safe, I have to be sure that he's going to be ok. Officer Rambo is outside waiting for me and we head back to my house. Freaking out internally, I had no idea what to expect when I got home. I built the scene up in my mind to be a horrifying nuclear fallout style disaster, so seeing the house still standing was encouraging at least. Inside there is minimal destruction. A few open drawers, some papers littering the kitchen floor. The living room electronics and valuables are still there. The bedroom is another story. My clothes have all been ripped from their hanging and scattered all over the floor, many of the items slashed and torn including my favorite dress. My vanity mirror was smashed and glass pieces were everywhere. The only items stolen were the little lockbox in the closet (around $500 in here plus my birth certificate, social security card and passport) and my jewelry box. BF is already at the house talking to the officers on scene and I make a beeline for him. He wraps me up in his arms and I take a few calming breaths before giving my statement to the police. Thankfully, Officer Rambo has this mostly under control. He fills in cop #2 about the man finding Bo and everything I'd told him so far. After asking about identifying information regarding the perpetrator (bitch), forwarding video evidence from our phones and taking a few pictures, Officer Rambo gives us the rundown. Police are putting out a warrant for her arrest and when they find her, they'll call me. He gives me his card and they leave.
There's a long silence after the door closes, like neither of us wants to speak first. BF looks at me in this tired way but before he can speak, we get the best news we've had all day. It's our neighbors and they found my other dog, Lady. She was spotted dodging traffic one street over and the neighbors ended up chasing her underneath their porch stairs. We got there as quick as we could and we notice the bloody paw prints leading around in circles and end under the stairs. It took some time coax her back out, (she's always been skittish and fearful) but we finally got her out, thanked our neighbors and rushed to the vet. Both dogs had glass from the back door embedded in their paws, and Lady had her stomach pumped after they found dark chocolate, complete with wrapper, in her stomach. Antibiotics, bandages that need changing every day and two majorly sedated dogs later, BF and I are not upset anymore. We are fucking FURIOUS.
Saturday we cleaned up what she'd broken and put the string of events together. She approached the house after BF left, so she was clearly watching us. She was obviously looking for money and valuables, not sure how she knew what was in the lockbox. She put foil wrapped dark chocolate in the crates with the dogs, not sure if she opened the cages before or after this. Bo's was left half chewed in his crate, and poor Lady still doesn't feel good after the vet found hers. Then upon finding nothing else she wanted, she left through the back door. Jury is out on whether or not she purposefully let the dogs out or just did so negligently.
So we've started a couple new lists. The first list was a list of crimes we plan to press charges over. Breaking and entering. Theft of personal property. Stalking and harassment. Poisoning an animal. Reckless endangerment. Murder. Rape. Whatever will stick to her ass, we'll throw. The second list was a list of things we needed to do like call the landlord, set up a post office box, check cost of secret service detail, etc. to begin the process of disappearing completely. The third list was of rental properties owned by our landlord, we want to be out of this place before the end of July.
The police picked her up yesterday morning, she was getting gas near the state line headed back toward her home state and she drove off without paying. What a class act. Officers said she went quietly without much resistance, so I'm gearing up for her to play poor innocent me again. Good try bitch, but I've got you on camera throwing a rock through my door.
Thanks for listening llama friends. I'll pen another update when I have more, until then, hug your babies, furry or otherwise.
submitted by no_name_offered to JUSTNOMIL

Help this kitten

The mother of a newborn kitten, looks no more than 3 days old, put the kitten in the engine compartment of a silverado 1500 2019, its been there for hours and the mama cat still hasnt come for it, i fear she has lost it because she cant hear her cries. I tried finding it but i cant, but i hear crying coming from under the battery.... its my fathers truck and he told me to wait until morning to deal with it. He said he wont be using the truck until its out. How long can a newborn kitten go without being nursed?
submitted by RandomCyber2112 to CATHELP

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