Dog Bite

Dog bite

This post is not meant to diagnose, treat, or save you from mental illness, if you or someone you love is in danger, please get help. You can text HOME to 741741 to be connected with a crisis counselor. I personally have. You can also call or text 988 for suicide and crisis help.
http://www.cdc.gov/suicide/facts

*Trigger warning, this content may be hard for some readers as it contains events from a dog bite attack.

This sucks. It hurts too much to even type and I don’t know what to do. i guess i should switch to voice to text. although the clicking of the keys is my therapy. It helps me process my thoughts. I guess all I can do is try to adapt and overcome.

We had just had an incredible family vacation, everything was perfect, we were coming home to unpack and have dinner. Roby, my husband was driving and I was the passenger princess, listening to one of our favorite songs, kids occupied by a movie in the back seat: The Smurfs.

As we were rounding the corner and entering the straight away part of our road, behind the school, we both noticed a golden streak of fur prancing in the road. It was a dog, a young golden retriever probably 50 lbs. and likely under two years old. I have a very strong love for dogs and having lost one of mine to an accident with a car, my heart went out to this dog. At first, I thought he was one of the four golden retrievers that live around the corner. (Wow my left arm is on fire, it hurts severely, I am going to attempt to type with one hand instead. 12/28/24).

As Roby stooped the van, to avoid hitting the dog, the dog ran to the grass and out of the road. That’s when I got a good look at him, he looked just like the other golden I have returned home before. We both greeted the animal: “hey buddy” Roby said. “Hey guy” I said, exiting the vehicle. The dog at first put its head low as if it wanted to sniff me. However, upon seeing my approach, it backed away and let out a warning bark. No growling or charging, no sign of aggression, rather fear. (It is now days later and my arm is feeling a little better enough to type with again, just slowly. 01/03/25). I knew enough not to approach the dog further, in any case he was scared and might run off or into the road again. I took step back and stood tall saying “GO Home then!” the dog ran a little ways towards a fence facing the road. “Is that your home?” I asked the animal. “Go on buddy, GO HOME!” I said waving both my arms at him, keeping him away from the road. The dog appeared to get the message loud and clear, he romped back over to the side of the fence and quickly, but forcefully shoved his body back underneath the fence through a low hole. The hole was quite obviously where he had escaped from, he flung more dirt behind him as he returned to what appeared to be his yard.

Knowing I did a good job getting him home, but coming to the quick conclusion that he could get out again soon through the same hole, I decided to see if anyone was home and alert the homeowner of their dogs “jail break”. I left Roby in the car without turning to him or saying a single word. I knew he would understand what I was doing. While the fence the dog had slipped through faced the street (Bucklew) that we had found him on and parked our car on, the house in fact faced the adjoining court; the house was on a corner. I quickly walked the path up to the front porch, which was not visible from the location that I had left my husband in our vehicle. I took a deep breath hoping someone was home, my heart still beating a little fast, hoping I could get the homeowners attention before the dog ran into the road again. I evaluated the front door, there was a very old door bell placed pretty low and looking to be out of commission, and a new video camera door bell as well. I rang the video camera door bell, it however made no sound, no lights or response. I then opted to just knock on the storm door with my left hand. I could hear some commotion in the house: movement and I was excited someone was home and may respond. I understand these days that not everyone opts to answer the door anymore, but having grown up coming to this neighborhood often, and being a resident of it for over 4 years, I felt confident in my actions.

It took just a few minutes for someone to open the door. It was a slightly hispanic girl with dark eyes and dark hair. She was about my height, but younger by at least 5-10 years. “Hello” I said, and she returned the greeting. You could hear small children playing in the background behind her. “I just wanted to let you know that your dog was in the street and I shooed him back into your yard”. “Oh thank you so much” she said with a sigh, glancing over her shoulder. It appeared she was busy, so I really didn’t want to take anymore of her time, but I wanted to let her know about the hole. “Yeah it looks like he slipped under the fence, you can see the dirt where he dug a hole.” “Oh” she said, with a thud suddenly knocking against the storm door. It was an aluminum door with the window at the top, I could not see anything below her chest. “Ah” she let out kind of a noise reaching for the door that had been popped off the latch just slightly. As she did this, there was another thud against the door and a waist level brindle colored pit bull emerged through the storm door and onto the porch. It was a small porch, just a slab really, so the dog and I were no more than six inches apart as it exited the door. My left hand was just inches from his head. I had hear no barking or growling from the animal as I knocked or was talking with the girl at the door. I had no reason at all to assume that this dog was vicious, protective, or aggressive in any way. I had just enough time to look down and say “Hi…” before the dog let out a very aggressive snarl. “Oh,” I said bringing my dangling left arm up to my side and making a turn away from the dog, no time to even take a step back, lest I would’ve fallen off the porch anyway. As I turned I was pinned up against the side of the house with no where to go. That’s when the dog lunged, bitting onto my arm, hard. I let out a cry and a scream in pure fear and agony. It was one of the most painful moments of my life, aside from child birth. I was scared for my life, this dog had a hold on me and might not let go. The girl said “shit” and reached out of the door for the dog. I turned my face and body away, leaving my arm in its mouth as a human shield. I closed my eyes and heard her say the dogs name or something, I can’t remember as I was nothing but terrified to my core. The dog let go but lunged for me again, and it seemed like that time the girl got ahold of the dog. Just as quickly as the dog he’d gotten out, it was placed back in the house, it appeared, by the girl. I grabbed my arm and grunted in agony, breathing heavily I was still not over the fear at all. I was stuck in panic, it wasn’t until my husband rushed up to the front of the porch that I could even fathom what had just happened. It appeared that when I let out a cry, he came running. He was out of breath and looking at me, back against the side out the house, holding my left arm with my right, against my chest, face twisted in pain. “Im okay, its okay” is all my mind could manage to say. I just thought if I held my arm that way, the pain would leave, that this whole thing might end up to be just a scratch. But it wasn’t. Not at all. I could feel the pain swelling in my arm, I could feel the warm run of blood against my skin and beginning to trail down my arm. “I’m okay” I said again to my husband, trying to make him believe me, trying to make that statement real, and also assuring myself that I was again safe. The girl said “Oh my god” a few times. She then went into the house, leaving the big door still open. I don’t know what she was doing. I shrugged off my jacket excruciatingly and then quickly tore off my long sleeve shirt. “Tie this around my arm” I told Roby. The girl was back at the door. “Its okay” I kept saying, obviously in shock still. I remember thinking of the kids, the ones in the house and my own in the car, hoping they hadn’t heard my cries. Tears began to well up in my eyes, I tried to force them back down in trying to stay strong. The girl waited a moment as Roby evaluated my arm, “is it bad?” I asked him. “Yeah its pretty deep” he said. “Okay, let’s go to the hospital” I told him. He nodded his head to agree, eyes soft and brow furrowed with concerned. The girl, still also panicked said “Hold on, let me call my boy friend”. “Does that dog have its shots?” I asked urgently. “Yeah” she responded hurriedly and turned back into the house to get her phone. She returned moments later with the phone trolling, calling her boyfriend. This all happened so fast. When he didn’t answer I said, “lets go” to Roby. I walked in my sports bra and pants, shirt tied around my arm, holding it, shook up and cold, back to the van parked in the street. As I was walking, the neighbor across the street approached from his side yard and looked at me worried. “Dog got me,” I said to his wide eyes.

I sat in the van as the kids began to ask me what was wrong and my mind began to reel at what to do. The pain was getting worse and worse; it was changing from a hard intense clamp, into a stinging stabbing pain with it. Slowly I could feel it pulsing. I looked down at my shirt wrapped around my arm and examined for blood, which has always made me queasy. On my shirt, I could see small pieces of skin and tissue. I almost passed out. All I could do was repeat “I’m okay” to my children; I wanted to will it to be true and I wanted to stay strong and not scare them at all, the way I just had been. Roby took a little bit of time on the porch with the girl, I figured he was getting her information. That relieved me, just in case we needed to fill out a report about what had happened. As Roby was walking back to the van, the neighbor I mentioned approach him. Apparently, he had seen everything and wanted Roby to know that. It made me feel better that someone else cared about me. Neighbors can still be good people. Because, that’s all I was trying to do, be a good neighbor, save a dog from ending up hurt, and prevent the golden retriver from escaping again. I meant no ill intent, I was not rude or condescending, I was gentle, kind and informative.

Since the altercation, I immediately got help with my children and had my husband take me to the hospital, where he took a statement with me about what happened. I have been to the hospital twice with symptoms regarding the bite. The first visit to address the dog bite, receive wound care, get antibiotics for the puncture and any bacteria that may have been introduced, and to have a tetanus shot, as mine was not up to date. The whole time, my arm was feeling worse and worse. The hospital gave me pain medication at the first visit, which did little for my pain, only constipating me instead. I have since only been on over the counter pain medication (Ibuprofen and acetaminophen). The second visit was for the throbbing in my left arm and the severe blinding headache I had upon waking up the day after the incident. I could not explain how I felt that second day, except to say that I felt dizzy, head throbbing and aching, sore, sick to my stomach and all together weird; not at all like myself. For the first few days after the accident, all I could really do was rest and ice. My arm was pretty useless to me. I did fill out a bite incident report at the hospital as well as going to the police station to file a report.

Now, it’s all I can do to not feel sorry for myself. My depression is worse for this incident, and I am having flash backs and night terrors. I keep hearing the noise of the dog lashing out at me and I keep dreaming of the dog ripping me all the way apart. Up until this bite, I have never been afraid of animals, just cautious and aware of their instincts and raw nature. I have never been bitten by a dog, as I have never approached a dog that seemed vicious or was giving warning bites and snarls. I have always treated animals with kindness and compassion. And while it pains me to say, as an animal lover, I believe this dog needs to be destroyed. I feel that its close proximity to the school, the owners inability to keep it and other pets in the yard, and the unprovoked attack on me, make for a potential hazard to others. The suffering I have endured since the dog bite has been unlike anything I have really experienced before. The pain that keeps me from showering myself, getting dressed, and doing everyday tasks is devastating. I am getting better, but I still have pain and not the full use of my arm back. I can not lift objects with y left arm without severe pain or dropping them, I can not sleep well or roll over onto the arm at all and the emotional pain is no help either. I am taking steps to move forward though. I have talked with my PCP nurse practitioner, I have discussed the shock and emotional pain with both my psychiatrist and my therapist and I am able to blog again slowly, which is my greatest form of self care.

Having Bipolar at the back of all of this trauma has not been easy. I can feel myself falling into depression again, although I am using all the tools I have to avoid it. I am still not driving yet and that has been hard for me, not being able to trust my arm to respond well. A simple slight bump to my bite site almost doubles me over in pain. I do my best to stretch it everyday, but extending it hurts as well. I fear I may need physical therapy, which I already was attending to for my back and had to cancel since I could not drive or do the exercises prescribed by my physical therapist. I am hoping to return to caring for my back pain soon, it has pained me to miss my therapy sessions and to not be able to care for myself properly through the pain from the bite.

I have to try to stay strong through all of this. I have to try my best to stay out of depression. I have to replace all of the negative thoughts with positive ones, per my therapist. She tells me as well that I did nothing wrong, that I am a compassionate person for caring about the dog in the road, caring enough to want to tell the neighbor it got out, and forgiving enough to myself to realize I was doing a good deed. I have to remember that I will get through this, that the pain won’t last forever in my arm, and that I am lucky it was not my face. I am lucky that the dog did not keep attacking me, although I am very sure that if the girl was not there to help me, that it could have been much, much worse. I am now a little scared of animals, it will take me some time to get over this, if ever. I will always have a physical scar and emotional scars from this event.

-A Manic Monday