A KICK IN THE PANTS

May 25, 2009 was Memorial Day. I had the day off. Big T was working and I had planned to get a lot done around the house. I was nesting. It was a beautiful day, and I woke up and did some laundry. Some time after lunch, I took Sully, our yellow lab, out for our daily shuffle.

We had made it halfway around the neighborhood when a neighbor's dog, who wasn't on a leash, bolted out from their yard, heading straight for us. I froze. The dog attacked Sully, and I held tight to his leash. The dogs circled my legs, Sully whining and trying to get away, and the other dog chomping at the bit. All I remember was screaming something over and over again. Something like, "Get off! Get off!" I became tangled in the leash, and in an attempt to keep the other dog away from mine, I fell to the ground.

It seemed like the owner of the dog was moving in slow motion. She stood in her yard calling for her dog, and the dog continued to attack Sully. Finally, I shreiked, "Come and get your dog!!" And she came over, grabbed her dog, I got up off of the floor, she apologized (barely) and I stood there, shaking.

"Ok, let's go home," I told Sully. As I began to shuffle away, something felt funny. I felt like someone had loosened all the joints in my pelvis. It didn't help that my heart was jumping around in my throat, I was still shaking, and there was a heavy, crampy nausea in my stomach. I couldn't take a regular stride. I could barely put one foot in front of the other. Slowly but surely, Sully and I plodded back home.

When we got home, I noticed that Sully had been bitten several times by the other dog. I forgot all about my pain and scrambled around the house, collecting supplies. I cut his hair so I could see the wounds, and cleaned them out with peroxide and gauze.

Then I threw myself on the couch. And all my plans for the rest of the day went out the window. I just...didn't feel right...