Dog Bites!

I had the weirdest day today. I just got bit by a dog! It was so random - I think I'm still shocked about it.

As most of you know, I love to run, and I love to run everywhere! I get bored just running around the neighborhood so I sometimes venture out into the streets of Dothan and check out the city. I figure this is a bit safer than running Westgate Trail because at least I'm not alone with people and "things" lurking in the wooded shadows. Anyhoo, so today I ran up Fortner and turned on Earline. Several minutes into my run a dog comes running out barking at my heels. Other runners can attest that this is very normal. I can't count how many times a dog has chased after me, barking as if I'm a big red fire truck or squirrel or something other dogs like to chase.

Well this dog did more than bark at me, it BIT me! The little turd. And it wasn't a little snip. The dog took a chomp and left a nasty ring of teeth around my calf and a chunk of me missing. I flung the little turd off my leg as the owners came running out to the street to call their turd back. I just stood there, too stunned to say anything. I think I was waiting for the owners to say something - to come running to me with bandages and ointment and a jug of whiskey and a stick for me to bite into. Okay, I was at least expecting an "are you okay?" I didn't get anything. They retreated to their yard and stared at me. I just ran back home, with blood running down my leg.

I washed the wound, grabbed a band aid and drove to the doctor's office because I had not had a tetnus shot in who knows how long. Well, the clinic had to call the po-po (police) and I had to give a report so the po-po can check out the dog and make sure it wasn't rabid. I hope it's not. I would have to call the dog something nastier than a turd if that's the case.

I gave my report, the doc put me back together, prescribed some meds to ward off infection and said I would live. Yea!

The worst part, however, is when I had to say what type of dog bit me. It was a little brown dachshund! You know, a little hot-dog dog. I told you it looked like a turd! I couldn't help but laugh at the doctor's office when I recalled the actual dog. At least it could have been a big, bad, scary dog named "Zeek" or "Killer" that I bravely fought off with my own bare hands - maybe even while trying to save an innocent child or little old lady. But noooooooooo, it was a little doggy named Susie.

Susie!

When I told the doc this he said I need a new story - to just make one up like I did about the big scar on my leg. Those who know me best know that I have a scar (two actually, one on top of the other) on the outside of my right thigh, starting at the top of my hip all the way down. Everyone always asks me about it when I wear shorts. I've gotten used to it, really. I'm kinda proud of it. It's a part of me. It's a part of my life story.

Anyway, I sometimes tell people I was bitten by a shark when they ask me about it. You don't wanna know how many people believe me when I tell them that (sorry if you were one of those people). I was not bitten by a shark folks. I broke my hip (running of course) and had to have some surgeries and many therapy sessions to fix it. I bet many of you don't know that I used to walk crooked - I kind of teetered back and forth - until therapy eventually corrected it. I still can't resist telling people the shark version sometimes. It just sounds so cool and so far-fetched that they think it must be true. Hence, the doctor telling me to come up with a better dog-biting story than the real one about little turd Susie.

All I know is, at the end of the day, I'll never look at a hot dog the same.

Turd!