Another interesting week around my neighborhood, full of lessons I really didn’t want to learn.
The first lesson is to carry a big stick when walking my doglets, or as a friend suggested getting a taser!
My little ones and I were on a ‘walk about’ (as they say in Australia), when a couple of bully canines decided my smaller Jazz might be a good appetizer. She objected—loudly! I knew Jazz could bark unrelentedly, but I had no idea she could squeal with such gusto!
Of course, I too would be squealing if half my body was inside the jaws of a lion, or shark, or a food processor. In my effort to extract my doglet from the grasp of the aggressive dog, I failed to notice that another stalker was eyeing me as possible fodder.
It seemed like several minutes, but probably lasted only seconds, but the melee was intense and loud. After getting the big lout off my doglet, then my doglet into my arms, then unwinding her leash from the legs of the lout, and kicking the other dog soundly, the three of us (Chili, Jazz, and me) limped home.
Chili avoided the frenzy thanks to a longer leash and perhaps her size. She may be too big for a doggie treat.
As I stumbled into my house, tears flowing, blood flowing, adrenalin flowing, and nerves on overload, I had missed the fact that one of those fierce canines had run away with part of my body. Yes, it was a tiny part, but any damage that draws blood is traumatic to me, especially if it is my blood!
After calls to my vet, my doctor, the local police, and a friend to come pat me on the back and make soothing sounds, I began to take inventory of possible damage done on what should have been a leisurely, non-eventful stroll. And discovered we were all alive, somewhat battered, but breathing and walking.
Let me assure you that I’m okay, the doglets are okay, and the dog that bit me is in quarantine. It took a couple of days for Jazz to get her tail out from between her hind legs, but I knew she was back to normal when she once more resumed barking madly at the postman. As irritating as that is, it was a relief for me to know she had returned to her position as guard dog…all 5 pounds of her.
So now I’m deciding whether to get a taser or pepper spray, just in case this might happen again. My concern is how likely is it that I will taser myself or spray pepper in my eyes in my frantic attempts to save myself and/or my doglets? I’ve been walking and running public streets for most of my 73 years, so what are the odds that I’ll be accosted again? Probably not great. But, just in case I might carry a big stick.