Another bite

Thursday, December 21, 2017

This morning I went on a run in the cold crisp December air. At mile 3.9, just over a mile from home, three dogs came charging at me out of nowhere. I yelled and began fumbling at my back waistband zipper pocket for my pepper spray, but my gloves made it nearly impossible to feel the zipper. I couldn't get my pepper spray out! The two white dogs pulled back after one menacing barking circle around me, but then a black one barreled across the street and grabbed my left calf with his teeth, twisting his head to the side in a ripping motion. I felt the horrifically familiar pinch of dog jaws around my lower leg, and my adrenaline and terror spiked to fever pitch. I scrambled up the dirt bank on the side of the road, screaming my head off between sobs. As I was trying to figure out if climbing the wood-and-barbed-wire fence would be worth the possible punctures/potential llama encounter, a car on the street slowed down and the dogs ran away. I was so relieved, I covered my face and sobbed. The driver rolled down her window and asked "Do you want me to drive you home? Do you want me to call 911?" I was frozen at the top of the dirt bank I had climbed, hesitating between the need for justice and the desire to get OUT of there and run home so I could have a breakdown in private.

Finally I sagged in defeat and accepted the offer. A guy got out of the passenger seat and offered it to me while he got into the back seat. I climbed into the car and the girl dialed 911. While we were waiting for the police, we talked. They were a brother and a sister, graduates from SHS, both in college, and it turns out they live next door to us! They live in the house with all of the roosters on the other side of the canal! Bianca and Jose. They were so nice and calming and so sympathetic. Seriously, I felt so much better inside the safety of their car. Faith in humanity: destroyed one second with ferocious unsupervised pet dogs, restored the next second with good Samaritans. They let me use their cell phone to call Jeff and let him know why I was taking forever. Then we sat in the car together waiting for the county police to arrive (since it was outside the city limits) for at least 20 minutes. Finally, the police officer pulled up and first went to talk to the dog owners (they weren't home, just their son). Then he came over and examined my leg for tooth marks. There was a faint scratch, but the dog's teeth had caught on my thick fleece leggings and ripped a two inch hole in my best warmest (new!) running pants. Thankfully the bite did not break the skin. The officer took my information for his report and sent it out to the awesome deputy who helped me with my last dog bite back in July.

Minimal physical damage (note the dog saliva next to the hole in my tights), but maximum psychological wounds.

After the policeman left, Bianca and Jose drove me home. Jose asked me if I liked any Mexican foods. I told him I love tamales, and he said they would bring some tamales by this weekend! Bianca said they love making lots of homemade food. What NICE PEOPLE! And they live next door. I am so thankful that they pulled over and took all of that time to help me, a complete stranger. What a coincidence that we turned out to be neighbors! I want to bring them some Christmas cookies.

Later, while I was making lunch, Deputy Sutton called and finished up the report. He remembered me from this summer, and once again, I was impressed with his kind, no-nonsense upholding of laws and protection of public safety. He told me that he called the dogs' owners and they were very apologetic.  Deputy Sutton told me that he had classified the dogs: the two white ones are class 2 dogs since all they did was cross the street and circle/bark, and the black one (with the clever name of Blackie) is a class 5 dog since it bit me. He explained, just like last time, that if the dogs even get OUT of their fence ever again, the county will take action: charge fines and remove the dogs (aka kill them). The dogs don't even have to bite again for those consequences to take effect. GOOD. Put some fear into these dog owners. These particular dog owners actually have been so responsible in the past that I didn't even know the dogs existed until today. They didn't even bark at me the first time I passed the house at the beginning of my run, only when their gate was left open and I was passing by on my way home. Apparently the owners' mother had medical complications and he left in a hurry and forgot to close the gate. Sorry to him, but sorry to me too! 

Now that it's all over, I feel limp and shaky from the strain of the fear and adrenaline. The post adrenaline slump is formidable and lasting. How am I ever going to go out running again? I have conquered this same fear over and over, only to have it return full force with the next dog attack. I am INNOCENT! Why does this keep happening? In the middle of the attack today, a teeny tiny fraction of my mind was asking that exact question: "is this really happening again right now??" The one good thing that can be said about today's dog attack is that it was short. I wasn't standing in the middle of a circle of snarling dogs with no way to escape for much more than 30 seconds before I scrambled up the dirt bank to the fence. They kept coming, but it was a relief to have a fence at my back instead of 360 degrees of vulnerability. And the road was busy enough that a car stopped and came to my aid. 

Two more thoughts: 

1. I hate being a damsel in distress! The one word I managed to form amidst my yells and screams was "HELP!" Screaming "help" is such a desperate, vulnerable feeling, especially when you mean it, when you need it badly, and as cars drive past without stopping to help. It's not like they could even hear me, but they could see, and it was still awful and scary and I hated being so unable to help myself. 
2. I do not like going to pieces in front of strangers! Bianca and Jose were so nice and I felt very comforted and safe in their car, but I still held my emotions in. I would much rather have just succumbed to my terror and had a good hard cry right then and there. Since I resist being so vulnerable and emotional in front of strangers (and pretty much everyone), I suppressed the urge to break down in the moment of rescue. I can't help but feel like those compressed emotions still need to get out at some point. Maybe that's another reason I feel so weak and wrung out. I need to "pop the blister" as it were and relieve the pressure with some tears!

This afternoon I fell asleep while we were watching A Muppet Christmas Carol (sad because I love that movie!) and I'm pretty sure my impromptu nap was a defense mechanism for recovering from this morning's doggy ordeal. I had to shut down for a while to gather my wits! I felt tired and limp all day after that blasted dog ordeal.

{end journal entry}

That night while I was lying in bed trying to fall asleep, my mind kept replaying all of my scariest dog attacks over and over and I was so stressed! With great effort I finally was able to relax enough to fall asleep. 

Another dog attack: survived. 

Emotions: scattered

Courage: shattered.

But no blood or bruises.

I guess that will have to be enough for now.