Forewarning: this is a graphic post with lots of pictures of my wounds. Don't read it if you are weak-stomached.
This would happen to me. I hesitated to call it a Sarah Grace story because I didn't do anything to cause this harm to myself but, nonetheless, if a freak accident would happen to someone, it would be me, Sarah Grace, so here it is.
It was an afternoon like so many others; I had called a friend on my way home from work and having just parked at my apartment complex, I went to check the mail. I was having a phonedate with my friend Mikah who happened to be about 8.5 months pregnant. I was quietly, calmly and slowly walking and talking as I crossed the parking lot.
The Attack
All of a sudden, out of nowhere I felt an intense pain in the back of my thigh. I turned around and see a dog that had just bit me and it was coming at me again. Since I had half-turned at that point, the dog grabbed at my ankle this time and I had to shake several times with a lot of force to get it off of my ankle. In the process, my shoe - a little office flat, not tied or buckled on to my foot - fell off.
As a result, the 3rd time the dog came at me, I was fully turned around and expecting it so I kicked at it but, because I no longer had a shoe on, it got the bottom of my heel.
Finally, the owner got the dog and was holding it. It was wearing a leash and the owner had been there the whole time but somehow the dog got away from him and came after me. I'm still not sure what provoked it.
The Aftermath
Though I was bit three times, my foot was what was bleeding the most. It kept steadily dripping and was immediately bruising on my ankle. I was panicking.
Part of why I was so concerned was because, as some of you may remember, I've actually been
attacked by a dog before, but that bite didn't bleed nearly as much and it didn't even bruise until the next day. As a result, I was freaking out that this dog may have gotten a vein or tendon because of how much blood I was losing and immediate bruising. I then began freaking out that I may not be able to walk again. Clearly, I was getting irrational ;)
Next, I feared I might faint from the blood loss. PLUS - the man was still just a few feet away from me and just holding the dog by the collar. He hadn't put it in the back of his truck or moved it away from me or anything. He did apologize though and kept assuring me the dog is up to date on shots. I hobbled over to lean up against a car and call Scott.
His phone was still on silent from work so it took 3 calls til he answered. Before I could even finish my sentence, he was rushing out to find me.
I also noticed my poor friend Mikah had called me back several times. I texted her to explain I was bit by a dog. She said all of a sudden she had just heard me screaming. She didn't know if I was being robbed, raped, whatever. I apologized if I almost sent her into pre-term labor.
Still bleeding, I sat down to avoid falling on my face. When Scott showed up a minute later, he found me like this (which, of course, I insisted be documented because I scrapbook and blog and this scenario would obviously need to be documented!).
I don't really know what my face says here but I was in a daze, hurting, irrationally upset and worried about if we went to the ER, how much it would cost.
Plus, now about 15 feet away, that little snot of a dog who did this to me was staring me down. Fortunately, Scott had his cop training kick in so he got the dog owner's apartment number, phone number, pictures of me AND a picture of the dog so we had all our evidence.
Unfortunately, now I can't use artistic license or Andrews exaggeration to say the dog that attacked me was some huge, ferocious, beast of a dog that weighed as much as I did.
No, I am reduced to the truth: I was attacked by this cute, little dog.
NOTE: its tail is wagging. And the dog barely comes up to my knee.
And do you see that smug look on it's face!?!
Priorities
Scott insisted we go to the ER. Dazed and hurting as I may have been, I did not forget to be my anal, clean self because I didn't want to ruin the car's carpet with blood. I asked Scott if he would please go get a towel for me to wrap around my foot before he retrieved the car from the other end of the parking lot to pick me up.
As he left, a boy of about 10 or 11 kept circling around my end of the parking lot on his scooter, unabashedly staring me down. I guess I was the most exciting thing he'd seen at our apartment in awhile. I thought to myself, "Thank God the dog didn't attack him or one of the older women who live by themselves in our apartment building."
While Scott and the boy on the scooter were gone, the female owner of the dog arrived. She said, "Oh my God. Oh no. Honey, I'm so sorry. She ain't never bit someone where it bled this much before."
I wish someone could have been there to document whatever expression came onto my face when I heard that.
She went on to assure me that she has a sweet dog and it goes to doggy day care and is a good dog. At this point, I'm just wanting her to leave so I tried to gracefully say, "I'm sure he is and I know accidents happen, I just didn't even see him coming."
She interrupted me to say, "Oh, it's a she."
Oh, no she didn't.
She did.
I
reallllly wish someone could have documented my face then.
Fortunately, before I could have said or done something I regretted in my irrational, delusional state of pain and blood loss, Scott arrived.
He helped me into the car and off to the ER we went.
My 1st Ever ER Visit
On the way there, I was losing it and bawling and freaking out. However, once we got inside and I realized I wasn't dying or going to lose the ability to walk, etc. etc. like I had been worrying about, I calmed down a bit and even mustered a smile when I asked Scott to document this part of the saga:
We had to wait a while and they required us to start an official report for animal control services. Turns out the animal control officers knew this dog. It had in fact bitten someone (or several people?) before.
More shocking and distasteful than that, we found out the dog's name was Lily. Lily!?! Sounds so damn dainty.
Anywho, the visit drug on. Once we finally got back to a room, the examination and cleaning of my wounds was made difficult by the fact that I was wearing the tightest pair of pants that I own. Literally.
I didn't want to take my tight pants all the way off - that would get blood all over them, hurt as the tight fabric had to be pulled over my ankle and heel and, most importantly, they would have to be put back on and hurt my wounds all over again when I had to leave since you don't get to keep those hospital gowns.
I decided to just meet in the middle and pull them part way up from my ankle and part way down from my thigh. You can see, at this point, I'm not sure if I was having fun with it or had just lost my mind but I thought I'd done a good job solving that situation. NOTE: I don't think I even asked for this photo to be taken; I think Scott just wanted to take it to document my crazy self at the moment.
By the end of 2 hours, they had cleaned my wounds, given me some bandages and prescriptions and sent me on my way.
On the Bright Side
One positive out of all of this was I got to live out a childhood dream. We went to the closest pharmacy which was at Walmart. We didn't think someone could pick up narcotics for someone else (they prescribed me Vicodin for the pain) so we both went to drop off my prescription. Since I couldn't really walk, Scott had to get me one of these which my mom never let me ride, though my brother and I had always begged for her to let us take one for a joy ride when we were little.
While some dreams do come true, this was anti-climactic. It was slow as molasses. But, we got my Vicodin and an antibiotic to help prevent infection.
That was the beginning of Scott being a great nurse and taking such great care of me as I healed.
The Wounds
I had 3 bites. Later that night I, of course, documented all of them. This time, however, it was not just for a blogpost or scrapbook but for an animal control services official report.
The cut on my heel made it hard to walk because it became swollen and sore and kept breaking open. Fortunately, our neighbor had an old pair of crutches so I used them for the first week or so when I couldn't really walk. That wound was the first to heal, though after about a month.
The second to heal was arguably the nastiest looking one. That tiny dog had a lot of force because it got high on my thigh and left this dark mark with a huge knot:
This is 4 days after the attack. You can see the two chunks missing from the teeth and the tape marks where we had the bandages on.
It got larger, darker and nastier. Some people thought it was a tattoo from afar. This photo is about a week out from the attack. It stayed bruised for around 3 weeks and the knot stuck around for over a month.
The one on my ankle was ultimately the worst with seemingly each movement ripping back open the wound. While the ER doctors said it could have used stitches, they avoid stitching bite wounds because mouths are so dirty and the rate of infection goes up astronomically. Even so, it was such a deep wound that it was slow to heal and got infected a couple times.
Bruising, discoloration, swelling, nasty walking-dead-level-gross-flesh looking stuff. I kept taking pictures not just to have gross documentation but because Scott's step-dad is a firefighter/EMT and he was letting me know (a) if it was infected or a serious problem and (b) how to clean/care for the wounds.
Fortunately, 2 months out (last week), it is back to almost normal:
It's still a little sore and tight and I can't do all the yoga moves I did before the attack (ironically "
downward facing dog" which uses so much of the back of the thigh, the ankle and heel is what I've had the most trouble with!) but I'm getting there.
So What Happened to Lily?
She was required by animal services to be in a 10 day quarantine to check her for diseases, most notably rabies. Praise God, she was up to date on all of her shots and rabies free so I didn't have to do any follow up shots after the attack.
Scott and I both grew up with dogs and our family has always had them so we are dog people. As a result, we didn't try to push for her to be put down. Plus, we were trying to stay on good terms with the dog owners so they would pay the bills. Fortunately, they did pay us and covered the meds and the ER bills. The man even gave Scott an extra $50 to "take your wife to dinner" as an apology. It was nice of them and well-timed as our 2-year anniversary was the week after they paid us so we used that to splurge on a meal out. I even wrote the neighbors a thank you note to try to keep any awkward tension at bay + we were truly grateful for how cooperative they were through the process.
However, Lily is now officially listed as "a vicious and dangerous dog" in the county and the state because she has bitten more than one person and because of the severity of my injuries. As a result, if this happens again, I don't think there is an option and Lily will be put down. Until then, she is required to be muzzled whenever out of the house. We've run into them a couple times and Lily has been muzzled. It is still a bit unsettling.
So there you have it. Sarah Grace attacked by a dog, for a 2nd time.
Here's to hoping I don't have to write a 3rd post on this topic!
