Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

I don’t know if other people do this, but from time to time I find myself in the middle of an emotional, somewhat irrational fit.  You know, the kind where you can kind of float outside your body and think “Self, you are really getting too carried away.  You should dial it back a little.  This is too big of a reaction for the thing you are upset about.”   And still, the ranting and crying continues? 

Yeah, I had one of those moments today.  It turned out that the situation in question provided some much needed perspective, but it was still upsetting nevertheless.

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Before we move forward with this story, I am going to set some ground rules for the comments.  I *KNOW* some people will be upset by my reaction.  I don’t care.  I don’t want to hear 87 reasons why I shouldn’t be upset.  I can give you 98 reasons myself, but they don’t make a damn bit of difference because my emotions are thoroughly in charge.  So think hard before you comment.  I don’t want to hear your reasons why I shouldn’t be upset or how I have offended you.   I will delete those comments.  If I am feeling especially cranky, maybe I will do something worse to the offenders.  (I don’t know what I really have the power to do, but don’t tempt me. Heh.)

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So you know how I was bitching and moaning about not wanting to leave my house?  Well, today I decided we were going to sell it no matter what.  I didn’t want to stay here another day. 
What could make AmFam feel that way, you are probably asking youself.  The answer?  Our next-door neighbors told us they now have a one year old p.itbull.  Mr. Neighbor didn’t want a dog at all, but Mrs. Neighbor brought it home anyway.  They have apparently been arguing over it for the past week and Mr. Neighbor had pretty much surrendered.

I TRIED to be rational and polite when I heard this news, but I sort of failed.  It took about 20 minutes for me to go from annoyed to 100% freaked out and demanding that we sell the house.   Images of my babies with their faces mauled off were dancing in my head.

I like dogs, really I do.  We always had a dog growing up and I miss it.  There are many, many kinds of dogs I would love to have living next door.  But these neighbors, who are generally nice people, are exactly the kind of well-meaning people who should NOT have a p.itbull.  They barely supervise their children, never mind providing proper discipline and exercise for such a high-intensity dog.  Also, the hadn’t done any research.  And they only have a pickett fence separating their yard from ours and the other neighbors. 

In my revved up state, I was pretty sure I could never, ever let my kids go outside unattended again on the off chance that the dog would escape their yard and kill them.   And the nice, secluded, kid-friendly yard is one of the things I love best about my house.  Even now, when I am calmed down, I know that I will never feel safe letting my kids out of my sight as long as that dog is there.  If the dog is outside, we will have to go immediately back in the house.

There was a bit of a discussion between me and Mr. Neighbor.   Actually, Mr. Neighbor and I had THREE discussions before Mr. A came home, each more emotional than the last (and with crying in the final two).

Thank god for Mr. A the fancy-pants lawyer, though.  He did a bit of quick research and learned that in our county, p.itbulls are considered “vicious dogs” and require special, locked containment.  Each violation (failure to have proper fencing, dog escaping the enclosure, etc.) can be a $1000 fine.  P.itbull owners in our county are required to carry $100,000 worth of liability insurance.  We also discovered that many home owner’s policies won’t cover homes with p.itbulls.  

Mr. A, being the good cop to my insane emotional cop, went to share this information with Mr. Neighbor.  Mr. Neighbor was shocked because Mrs. Neighbor had neglected to research the situation.  He also mentally calculated the costs associated with the information that Mr. A supplied.  By the time Mr. A was done talking with him, Mr. Neighbor thanked Mr. A for the information.  We will have to see if Mr. Neighbor or Mrs. Neighbor wins the fight for the dog.  Clearly, I am rooting for Mr. Neigbhor and his pocketbook to win.

In the end, this is all a good thing for me though.  Because I saw how very quickly I could disengage from the importance of living in THIS house.  In less than 10 minutes, I was ready to live in a variety of other houses and apartments in different parts of our neighborhood or in another city.   So tonight, I did home repairs with an unconflicted heart.

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On second thought, I am closing the comments because I don’t think you p.itbull lovers and owners will be able to help yourselves.  I know there are many nice p.itbulls, heck, I have even had friends who had them.  I used to live next door to a couple crack-house p.itbulls and I wasn’t particularly afraid even though I knew they were mistreated and used for fighting.  It is the possibility of my CHILDREN getting hurt that makes this so terrifying.  I will not discuss p.itbulls further.  I am only sharing this story because of the realization I had about the house.