I wanted to expound a bit on my ‘Worst Day post, as there were some interesting comments.
Mrs. Chili was surprised that I made dogs my life’s work after that. Well, the fact is, I was completely infatuated with dogs. Hell, any animal really, but mostly dogs. I still feel that way today. I will say though, that I am no fan of most arctic breeds (as Pookie said in the comments). In my not so limited experience, you’re MUCH more likely to get chewed on by a Chow, Husky, Malamute, or even American Eskimo Dog than you are a Pit Bull or Rottweiler. I will and have worked with these breeds countless times, though. I just don’t necessarily enjoy the experience or find it relaxing.
Dan said that he doesn’t trust dogs and as much as he loves them, he’ll never have one as a pet. I absolutely agree that if someone feels this way, they should not get a dog and just try to get over it. If you don’t trust your dog, your dog can’t trust you and that makes for a bad situation.
Obviously the dog that attacked us was not to be trusted. I didn’t have the skills to deal with a dog in that mindset. I’ve aquired those skills in the years since then and my response to such an attack now would not be to stand there and do my best imitation of a Milkbone. I wish I’d known better how to handle a situation like this so that I could have stopped the attack before he moved on to my little brother. That was a lesson learned for me and my kids have been brought up handling dogs and would at the same age (I was 12) have handled the same circumstance much better than I did. Pooter can drag the 120 lb Great Dane around and never suffer anything more tragic than a stomped on toe. Because I raised both the dog and the kid to act right.
Kizz wanted to know whether it was worse being attacked or watching my little brother be attacked. Well, I was actually surprised to find out that I had wounds because getting chewed up is pretty painless when it’s happening. Between the sharpness of the dog’s teeth and the adrenaline, I didn’t really feel it. Watching the dog attack Andy was much more horrifying because I could actually see the damage being done.
To be truthful though, the absolute worst part of the whole thing was sitting in the ER with Andy, waiting for an OR and trying to pretend like he didn’t look all that bad. It was my first experience with not looking absolutely fucking terrified so I wouldn’t scare someone else. It was more difficult than you might imagine.
All in all, I’m over it. My little brother is over it; in fact, he lives with two big dumb dogs himself. It was a really bad day, but we’re both still here and he’s not blind. We’re good. It’s all good.
He’s still a badass though.