dog problems

(first things first: if you haven't yet listened to the album by "the format"with the same name as the title of this post, then you haven't yet experienced sing-along, pure-sugar-sweet pop music at it's finest. in other words... your loss)


dogs love me


generally speaking, i love them back


occasionally, their affection for me has created awkward moments: waking up to find a dog licking my face, realizing that i forgot to wash my hands in between being licked to death by a dog and eating some peanuts, having dogs jump all over you and attempt to greet you in traditional dog fashion (i.e., placing their nose where i would most definitely NOT like them to place it). but in general, dogs and i are on good terms

that all changed last thursday


for the first time ever (or, more accurately, for the first time i can remember), a dog bit me


granted, i'm at a higher risk for dog bites than the average person, given that my occupation of meter reader places me on private properties patrolled by dogs on a regular basis. however, my good relationship with canines, coupled with some common sense and a steady supply of dog biscuits, has allowed me avoid any serious incidents over the past 8 months

until last thursday, that is


i thought we were on good terms: i gave him a dog biscuit. he seemed happy. i walked up to the house, read the meter, and started walking back to my truck, when this dog decided to sneak up behind me and chomp down on my right thigh


(i'll admit it: i swore. although technically speaking, the phrase i used to describe the dog was less of a curse than it was an accurate description of his lineage)


so, being the rather stubborn person that i am, i decided to finish out my days work before i headed back to get it taken care of. little did i know that forms, paperwork, doctors visits, and shots were awaiting me at the end of my shift. apparently it's a pretty big deal if you get bit by a dog; this i did not realize, having never been bitten by one before

the last stage in the process finally came to a close today, when i finished the paperwork for the animal control officer (he complimented me on my incident report; apparently i did a good job of describing the vicious attack) and sent in what i think is the last form for the insurance company


the healing process is still ongoing, however. and i'm not talking about my leg; that's healing up fairly nicely. i'm talking about my relationship with dogs in general. i'm much less trusting; much more likely to treat an exuberant canine with suspicion; and, i carry my mace with me at all times now


i've also imposed a one-week moratorium on dog biscuit distribution. i tell every dog i meet why they're not getting one, too; i want word of this incident to circulate throughout the canine underworld, hopefully resulting in a fall from favor and ultimate shame and disgrace for the offending party



new policy: mace first, dog biscuits later