Well, towards the end of our ride we passed by a house that had a fenced in yard and in that yard was a little boy and a MASSIVE dog and the dog was growling and jumping on the screaming little boy and biting him. I said to Spencer that we needed to help him but Spencer said he was fine (and I later found out that this was true, the dog was just playing a little too rough....but in my mind this little boy was being mauled!!) The boy screamed a little louder and I decided to help him. I launched my bike to the ground and leaped over the fence. I grabbed the dog by his collar and the little boy was able to run inside. I remember thinking immediately what the heck was I thinking jumping in here with this dog. 1) the dog was biting the little boy, wouldn't he start attacking me? 2) what was I going to do with this dog now that I had him by the collar? and 3) I am deathly afraid of dogs!
Well, the dog did start biting me but luckily, like Spencer said, he was just playing. His bites weren't breaking the skin. So as the dog is gnawing on my arm I look around and decide what to to next. I see another boy a distance away. I asked him if his brother was ok and maybe if his mom or dad was home....all the while trying to keep dog from tackling me. He said his mom was home, and then he started going off how they had a shock collar on the dog and how he's been acting up lately. I tried to decide how I was going to let go of the dog and jump back over the fence without him getting me. When I decided that there was no hope and I would just have to hold on to this dog forever, the little boy's mom came out. She said her son said I helped him and that he was ok. I was eternally grateful when she took the dog's collar from me and I was able to get on the other side of the fence. She thanked me for helping her son and I said it wasn't a problem and tried to to get away as quickly as possible because all I could think about was the poor little boy screaming while the dog attacked him and it totally brought back painful memories of my dog attack.
When I was eight years old I was bit by a German husky. I was delivering papers for my brother Nathan because he was out of town. My mom drove me around Elk Ridge and took me to the houses on the list. Well, one of the houses I delivered to had two big huskies sitting on the front porch. I didn't see them until I got right to the door because the walkway leading to the front porch wrapped around the house. I put the paper down slowly and started to back away. The black and white one growled dangerously at me and I ran for it (not the best idea obviously, but come on, I was eight years old and scared out of my mind!) I ran out into the field in front of the house screaming and he chased me and tackled me to the ground. I remember as I was running seeing the neighbors across the street step outside their front door to see what was going on and they just stood there watching. I yelled, but they didn't move off of their front step. The dog clawed up my back to get me to the ground and started biting me, taking a chunk out of my leg. Luckily my mom came to my rescue. She kicked the dog as hard as she could (and I remember this quite clearly, her cussing at the dog ), picked me up and rushed me to the car. I don't remember this but whenever my mom retells the story she never leaves this bit out...apparently I was really proud of the fact that when the dog was biting me I put my arms over my head and neck to protect them. I told my mom this once we got in the car and she said she was very proud of me. On the way to the hospital we came across a marathon of some kind and I remember my mom threatening to run the people over if they didn't move it. I also remember looking at my leg in the car, feeling bad about the blood I was getting on the seat, and asking my mom if I would have to get stitches. She told me I would and I was even more terrified. At the hospital there were police officers called in and they took pictures of my wounds. Apparently this particular dog had already attacked someone else and they needed the photos as evidence. I thought they were pretty cool. My mom was right about the stitches, I needed 36 stitches for my leg. 25 were needed on the inside to repair the damage and then 11 to close up the wound. Ever since this happened and up to my current place in life this has been my feelings towards dogs: They're smelly, they shed all over the place, they make people have allergies, they're always trying to slobber on you and jump on you, people talk about them like they're family members which is annoying, they poop in your yard, they eat your pet ducks, oh...and they EAT PEOPLE!
Anyway, so back to my story....I felt so sorry for the poor little boy being attacked by the dog. He was so scared! So thinking about this and his cries for help and all the adrenaline from jumping over the fence and facing my fear left me in quite a state. I didn't really calm down until we got to the park to toss the frisbee around. It was kind of difficult to do this though due to a guy who brought his dog to the park to apparently train him?....I don't know he was running around and the man kept saying "stay" and "sit" Seriously....are you kidding me!?! I can't stand the things! Anyway, I did calm down eventually. This experience was not a fun reminder of my feelings towards dogs.
p.s. bonus points if you can guess what movie the dog picture is from
