Vicious Attacker

p]======                        When I was 8 years old I spent a lot of time at my grandparents house. You would always catch me outside playing with there dog. The dog was one of the most beautiful dogs I’d ever seen. She was a Husky/ Akiti. The dog’s eyes were baby blue just like the sky.

It was Memorial Day Weekend and on the holidays my grandparents always threw get togethers. At the end of dinner all the ladies in the house were cleaning up and I over heard my grandma holler to my grandpa to take the scraps out to the dog. I spoke up and told my grandma that I’d feed the dog for her. She handed me a bowl full of food to take out. While making my way out to the dog I noticed it was pacing back and forth just watching me. I was young I didn’t know any better. I thought at the time I was doing a good deed. The dog walked so much over the time of my grandparents having her that she made a path in the grass. The closer I got the closer the dog got too.

I bent over to put the food into her bowl, but when I looked up all I remember was the dog latched onto my right arm. At the time of me going outside my brother, cousin, dad and uncle were all outside talking. So when they heard me screaming they all came running. The dog let go on my right arm and I tried to get away, but the dog got my left arm faster than I could move. I do remember that my dad went up and kicked the dog in the mouth in hopes of letting my arm go. My uncle pulled me away when the dog decided to let go of me.  Both my dad and uncle applied pressure to both arms while guiding me inside to clean my arms and bandage them until we could get to the hospital. I remember hearing my dad tell everyone in the household that the dog was throwing me around like a rag doll. I also heard my mom screaming because her baby was hurt and seeing my aunt holding my mom back so she could calm down some.

My parents and my grandma and I loaded up and headed to the hospital. While being there I fell asleep waiting for the doctors to come in. The doctor came in and numbed my right arm. When putting the stitches in my dad counted 14 stitches. Doctor told my parents that he would have to leave my left arm as an open womb that if they were to stitch it up that my skin would be pulled.  The dogs life came to and end after waiting 7 days to make sure the dog didn’t have rabies. To this day a lot of people ask me if I’m afraid of dogs. Of course I am; only some though. I’m not a fan of Rots or Dobermens. To this day I have 11 scars from that dog.

Thanks for reading.


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