I keep intending to write fiction stuff on this blog. You know, the usual fanciful stuff that no one will really read but is really self-indulgent good fun. I could definitely use a dose of escapism right about now. However, it seems like the only words that want to come out are words about my real life and what’s been happening. I mean, no one will read it still, but I wish it was grade-A (or B, I’m not picky) well crafted prose and not me talking about my feelings or wondering why I put it out on the internet for the world to see if it cares to. Oh well, it’s that desire to be heard, I guess. If I give in to this, maybe I’ll actually get to write some fun stuff eventually.

Well, the state of the me continues to not be great. On March 31st, I was attacked by a pit bull at my workplace. It was a completely unprovoked and unprecedented attack and it has left me, quite frankly, a wreck in every sense of the word. My arm got pretty torn up and I spent a night in the hospital. Every day since then I’ve battled with nightmares, depression on a scale heretofore unknown to me, and all-consuming irrational fear that people I care about or my dog will be next, that an off-leash pit will come out of the woodwork and tear into someone else. I hesitate to mention that the dog that did this was, in fact a pitbull. Mostly because of how hot-button the breeds encompassing the description have become recently. Up until March 31st I had never been an especial fan of the breed, but I did subscribe to the idea that the owner created most of the problems these dogs caused. I was on the “punish the deed not the breed” train, even after our neighbor’s pitbull mauled and killed our miniature horse in her own fenced pasture when I was in college. I blamed myself for putting the horses out that day (in their own fenced pasture!), and I blamed the owner who was, in fact, actually a piece of garbage. I can agree that owners have a hand in their dog’s shittiness, I can be fully on board with that. But these dogs are a literal breed apart in terms of the damage they can cause and I can bear witness to that firsthand. I find myself severely uncomfortable with the idea that their tendencies and breed makeup are glossed over, muted and ironically mocked by people bent on painting them as a harmless breed in the face of statistics.  It’s a tough pill for me to swallow because I pride myself on loving all dogs and all animals in general, in treating each animal as an individual and never being afraid on principle. I find myself cringing when people start talking about how their dog would never and so on and so forth. I have come to terms with the fact that I will in essence be treating the bully breeds like I would treat a tiger, a species with which I have worked in the past. Respect them, appreciate the fact that they could, in fact, kill you,  and if I see one roaming loose somewhere, I won’t be approaching it to try and apprehend it.

For the record, this does not mean I believe all bully breed dogs need to be rounded up or euthanized or what have you. I just believe that more awareness of their capabilities needs to be out there. I thought I had some idea of what they were capable of. I mean, I work in an animal shelter and I’ve seen some stuff. I can also accept the fact that working with animals comes with risk, that anyone can get hurt no matter how safe you try to be. And I have been hurt before. Stepped on by horses, bitten by birds, scratched by cats, etc etc. I don’t blame the animals that do these things, even now I don’t blame the dog that did this. It’s a dog, it’s doing what’s in its dog brain to do. What happened to be tossed into that particular dog brain was “see human, bite human, keep biting human”, which is not a great thing to be in a dog brain. Still, it’s an animal and not a human, it can’t reason the way humans can. It just becomes a scary issue when the animals capable of doing this are supposed to be bred selectively for just the opposite instinctive reaction to humans. But attention hasn’t been particularly paid to that aspect of this breed, it seems, and that worries me. The more research I do, the more I get concerned, and the more sad I get for the people and animals who have been victims of these attacks. Hence my increasing ire and anger for the “it’s all in how they’re raised/treated/they must have been abused” defense when these things happen. Anyway, I think I’ve rambled about this enough. Perhaps a more cohesive post in the future.

This coming to terms with how I feel about these dogs is only part of things. I find myself crying intermittently, especially when I’ve taken my bandage off and I see my arm all torn up and ragged and scarred. I think back to that morning, to my past unhurt self walking to clean my building and not knowing something terrible, something life changing is about to happen. I wish I could call out to her, and I cry knowing what’s going to happen to her, what’s going to happen to me. That’s enough to start me crying. I can talk about the incident just fine most times, recount it for people if they ask with no trouble. But every now and again I will get these instant, immediately vivid flashbacks complete with sensation and I’ll cry. Even when my own dog approaches me in play it sometimes causes me to pause. Mostly because the dog that attacked me gave literally no signs of being either defensive or aggressive. He just charged soundlessly, jumped up and latched on. It could happen again. It could happen at any time. I could walk by someone else with a dog and their dog could jump up and latch onto me or to my dog.

I’m trying to arrange counseling for all these feelings, but of course it’s slow going so this is my only outlet for now. Again, that escapism would be just great right about now.  I’m just trying to do the best I can to crawl through each day. My arm hurts, my mind hurts, I want to stop randomly crying or being upset. The love and support of friends and family have helped immensely, of course. I don’t know where I’d be without them, much worse off than I am even now, I imagine. I’ve got a lot of things to figure out, and I don’t see things being a great deal easier in the immediate future.

I wanted to end this on a positive note, but I dunno if that’s in the cards for this entry. I suppose the most positive note I can think of is that I am grateful for the support, the friendship, and the love that has been extended to me in the wake of this horrific incident. I appreciate everyone’s patience while I weather through this dark, crappy time in my life.

Love to you all.