They came out at sunset with no time to prepare. Four dogs circled taking turns taking chunks out of my legs. It was unprovoked in the middle of a road–black, white, yellow, and brindle–in a whirl. The result was six punctures, two fang rakes, and a 6" incision to the bone with a pulsing artery exposed. I tore a tank top to slap on a compression bandage and left a trail of blood for a mile door-to-door for materials. Got duct tape, needle-and-thread, superglue, and ampicillin. An army ex-medic offered Bacardi Rum into the deep wound plus a couple down the hatch before sutures. I don't drink. So, we pound with a spoon ampicillin into powder and sprinkled it into the wound. Three butterfly bandages of duct tape and a few drops of superglue apposed the skin sides.

The next morning I went to Pioneer Hospital where the doc said it was 'the worst dog bite in Slab history.' Surgery took two hours as I watched eight sutures go in and out with curiosity. The nurse yelled at me for 'not crying like a grown man' and it was over before I knew it. It was the seventh attack in five months. People ask why I get bitten so often. I reply that people who drive farther have more accidents. They are probably better drivers. That's me without the tires. Today, three days after the attack, the wounds are healing beautifully. I walked in 115F an hour to the Slab sand golf course and borrowed a 7-iron for protection. A medical problem is a gift to me, and this one was like Christmas.





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1 Comment so far

  1. Pete M on July 28, 2019 5:15 pm

    Sorry to hear about the attack Bo. Get better soon


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