I Got Bit. ðŸ˜–

Valentine’s Day Bite – not the kind I had in mind.

Yesterday was a warm and sunny day. I took a walk around noon. As I neared the end of my walk, approximately 52 feet from my front door, I noticed a woman exit her apartment to pick up a large moving box next to her front door. At the same time, a dog about the size of a large meatloaf darted out behind her from inside her apartment, yapping at the top of its lungs – at me – for existing and being noticeable – and headed straight for my left ankle. It bit and held on.

“What the FUCK!?!?” I yelled and kicked it off. The dog’s owner was yelling No! No! and calling its name, but the dog didn’t listen or care. It wanted me, got me, and that was it. And it hurt. And it freaked me out. And then I got pissed off. And then – after I exchanged some words with the dog’s owner – I took myself to the Urgent Care and had to get on antibiotics.

Did I relapse and drink over this incident? No. Did I want to? No. I’m still sober. Nothing – not even the trauma of being attacked by a dog is going to tempt me to drink. And this, in and of itself has my attention because I used to drink over and because of A N Y T H I N G. Something else that got my attention was the feeling that I didn’t know quite what to do with myself after I got home from picking up my medication. I couldn’t get the image of this dog, or of it biting me, out of my head. I’ve never been attacked by an animal before. Animals love me. I’m cool. Regardless how big or small an animal is, being attacked by one is startling to say the least.

Look – it’s not like I feel sorry for myself or anything (Okay, maybe a wee bit) – it’s just that I keep thinking about what happened no matter what I try to do to NOT think about it. My timing to take that walk and her timing to open her front door could not have been more spot on. What was the likelihood that I’d be passing her apartment at the exact same moment she opened her door? I figure my odds were just as good at winning the MEGA Lottery, which has yet to happen. Getting bitten feels like, well, getting bitten – hard – but with smaller and sharper teeth. If you really want to know how it feels, bite yourself – hard.

Beware of dogs off leash and of dogs that dart out of their homes and head straight toward you. If it’s barking and not wagging its tail – that’s the time to say to yourself, “Oh, shit!”

Published by Jennifer

I've finally found my happy place in sobriety. Yay! Go Me!

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