Tuesday, December 31, 2002
This morning I walked to the mailbox to toss our stuff in so I took a different route for my walk and I got bit three times by a dog. I wasn't even in the dog's yard -- he ran out of his yard, fangs bared to come get me. Of course I started freaking out while trying to remember what to do when attacked by a dog and I was pretty sure you weren't supposed to start freaking out. It's hard to stand still (advice) when something is jumping on you and biting you and growling at you. Some little girl calls him back and takes him in the house and shuts the door. No "sorry," no "are you okay?" which makes me even more pissed. Since it's cold I had on several layers so none of the bites broke the skin and two of them didn't even make a red mark. There's a tiny red mark on my hand so I suppose I'll survive but I'm still feeling sorry for myself and vindictive towards these people and their mean dog Charlie.