I've only been bitten by one dog* and I still tote the scar from it. I was 8 and he was a poodle. SOB popped me on the calf before I even knew he was there. Blood pouring down my leg, me wailing like a banshee and my Mama meeting me in the yard to see what was wrong with her precious little angel. She does the usual for the time period and cleans it with alcohol and merthiolate, both of which were infinitely worse than the bite itself. Somewhere between the bite, which hurt, and the first aid, which hurt like hell, I decided that little bastard had to pay.
When the inferno died down in my leg I grabbed my BB gun, eased over and set up shop in the plum thicket on the end of the house where they fed this little bastard. And then I waited. Finally they set a bowl of food out there and here he came. The bowl was against the wall and he buried his little rodent face in it, exposing his backside to me. I took aim and shot him right square in the balls. He hunched down and began to wail I went to right shoulder arms and marched home where I was again met by my Mama who promptly whooped my ass. I didn't care....I had won and El Diablo, or whatever they called that mutant, AKA "The Loser" had to have one of his nuts cut out.
Whether he put the word out in the dog network that I was not to be trifled with or it's because I made up my mind that day that if a dog wants to fight then fight we will I don't know, but I've never been attacked by a dog since.
I've been bitten several times since then while breaking up dog fights or just an accidental bite while I was instigating the dog by play fighting with him. Those don't count because the blame for the them falls squarely on my shoulders and not the dog's.
When the inferno died down in my leg I grabbed my BB gun, eased over and set up shop in the plum thicket on the end of the house where they fed this little bastard. And then I waited. Finally they set a bowl of food out there and here he came. The bowl was against the wall and he buried his little rodent face in it, exposing his backside to me. I took aim and shot him right square in the balls. He hunched down and began to wail I went to right shoulder arms and marched home where I was again met by my Mama who promptly whooped my ass. I didn't care....I had won and El Diablo, or whatever they called that mutant, AKA "The Loser" had to have one of his nuts cut out.
Whether he put the word out in the dog network that I was not to be trifled with or it's because I made up my mind that day that if a dog wants to fight then fight we will I don't know, but I've never been attacked by a dog since.
I've been bitten several times since then while breaking up dog fights or just an accidental bite while I was instigating the dog by play fighting with him. Those don't count because the blame for the them falls squarely on my shoulders and not the dog's.
If your Doctor is a tree, you're on acid.
