A few weeks ago I was a happy-go-lucky pup chilling at the park and taking care of routine doggie business.
See, my usual pretty and mellow self. Then, a few days later I was walking with my Mommy and an off-leash Pit Bull (yeah, I know) mauled me on the street and I ended up like this…
But this battered-looking doggie before you is no victim. I’m as tuff as they come and I never say die. I’ve got too much to live for. Play dates with my friends. My sweet and caring Mommy. Succulent lamb lungs! So, what the heck happened? To tell the tale and set the mood, I must call upon a photo with a reflective and pensive look.
Much better, right? Mommy had just picked me up from a great Doggie Day Camp session at PetSmart. (I love them so much!!!) She stopped by a friend’s place on East 3rd Street and we were starting to walk home. All of a sudden an off-leash Pit Bull sauntered up out of nowhere.
Mommy was startled, since it was dark out, but things seemed okay at first. Then out of nowhere CHOMP!!! I was but a furry marshmallow in the tight grip of a very powerful pooch. The dog picked me up by my neck and yanked me from one part of the sidewalk to the other. I tried to fight but, really, what could I do? Luckily, Mommy was the hero I needed that day.
Mommy held onto the leash, yelling out for help. (The owner was nowhere to be found.) Then, a stroke of luck: The Pit opened its mouth to get a better grip on my delicious neck. My Mommy yelled “DOLLAR” and yanked me away into her loving arms. Not to be dramatic, but if it weren’t for my Mommy and the new collar I was wearing, I wouldn’t be updating this site from my iBone right now.
At first it didn’t seem like a huge deal until Mommy and our friend Melissa did an inspection and found this…
That’s not a Nike swoosh on my neck. It’s a photo Mommy texted Daddy of one of my wounds before I went into surgery. The Vet at the Fifth Avenue Veterinary Specialists said the dog was definitely trying to kill me and it’s a miracle I escaped with my life. Four hours of perfect surgery later I was stitched up like Frankenweenie with these freaky neck tubes sticking out of me.
I spent the next few days like this.
Pain meds can really make a mouth dry. Got any decaf iced tea?
My new monkey bed became my best friend.
I couldn’t wear a cone of shame due to the injuries—not that I would have anyway—so Mommy was on call 24-hours a day to make sure I was ok. She also had to apply a heat compress at least four times a day to get all the infection out of my neck.
Ahhh, that hits the spot. It might just be a damp washcloth heated for 15 seconds in the microwave and placed in a Ziploc bag, but it worked wonders. You’ll notice that only Mommy was treating me after the incident. Why is that?
Because my Daddy was hanging with Unkie Jordy (pictured above) in San Diego at Comic Con 2012. Enough about those nerds. Back to more me…
The morning Daddy got back I was ready to get the tubes out. Here I am in the cab heading over to the hospital. (Mmmm, do I smell Brick Oven Pizza? I think I do. Extra cheese please!)
Here I am after the tubes came out. You can pretty much see inside of me. Gross! Still, I was feeling great and wanted to play. The only problem: I wasn’t allowed to play with other dogs or go to the run for two weeks. That’s torture for a social pup like me.
Close-up of my Frankenweenie-ness.
This is the other injury behind my left ear. It didn’t look as bad as the one on my neck, but it was much deeper. The doctor, who did a masterful job, said it took a long time to clean out the infection.
Even though I couldn’t play with dogs in the run I could still go for walks. Here I am hanging with Anthony outside of the run at Washington Square Park. This guy has nerve damage in his back paws, so he has a tough time walking, but it doesn’t get the best of him. He’s cute, loving and greets all the dogs on their way to play.
Around a week later we were back at the Hospital to get my stitches out. I was so excited! (NOTE ABOUT THE COLLAR: People kept telling my parents they should use a harness on me, but the harness was actually much worse on my wounds. But thanks for looking out, concerned citizens.)
Unfortunately, they had to leave a few stitches in which meant another week without doggie play. Drat!
The wounds behind my left ear were healing perfectly. True Blood fans might say they make me look like a Fang Banger. (I know I’m too young to watch the show, but I can’t resist it. I’ll run thru the woods with you anytime you want, Merlotte!)
We celebrated my Daddy’s birthday during my recovery. Here I am wearing an adorable gift they bought for me. <coy pose>
And the healing continued. Check that out! Check what out? Exactly! Barely noticeable.
After the stitches came out and a few days went by, this was the other wound. It’s like a cool Harry Potter scar. I’m a doggie wizard!
See!!!!! To recap:
Yeah, I know. I wasn’t kidding when I called myself Wolverine. Since my hair’s growing back it’s becoming even less apparent. But, most importantly…
I’m back to playing with other doggies! Here I am throwing down with an Iggy at a meet-up at Animal Haven.
People ask if I’m affected by the attack. Here I am at Tompkins Square Park. Look at my face. Does this look like a dog that will let a random, freak attack get her down? No sir!
Also, I don’t hate Pit Bulls at all. I blame irresponsible owners who don’t know how to take care of them properly. For example: If you’re walking them on the street use a damn leash! If you don’t then dogs like me get mistaken for a light evening snack. (To the owner’s credit, they took responsibility and paid all my medical bills.)
Enough of the negative. I’m a dog so I can put all that anger and pain behind me as if it never happened and focus on the positive. Hanging with my friends again at the park and day care. Snacking on delicious treats. And most importantly…
Napping on my Mommy’s lap after a long day of play. Thanks for nursing me back to health. I can never give you enough kisses! I’d also like to thank everyone who sent me warm wishes—friends, family, the sweet walkers at Swifto who sent the most touching card, Daddy’s co-workers who bought me cupcakes—while I was recovering. It all meant so much.