On being attacked by a dog

WARNING: this story is about a dog attacking me and my dog. While we are both fine, the story could be triggering to victims of violence. Please read with caution.



February 14, 2020

A bit of background

Spectrum was due by 4 (Wi-Fi woes) so when I got home around 3:35, I hurried to get my beagle, Isabella, out for a potty break before they arrived. We walked maybe 3 minutes before she was done with her business and we turned back for home. Just before I stepped into my yard, I saw the neighbor’s dog, cutting across my front yard from my back yard. It was about 3:40 pm at that point.

“Oh, Hi,” I said, “What are you doing . . .” That’s the last thing I remember before he rushed towards me and Isabella.

The dog, a rescue, is noisy, but skittish. He barks a lot, but our dog does too. In fact, Isabella and her canine neighbor had had an ongoing conversation for several years. One would hear the other and respond enthusiastically. So, when I saw him, I wasn’t even a little nervous.

And that’s the first lesson I’ve learned from the whole thing. See, I’ve known my whole life that dogs of any breed can snap and lose their ever-loving minds. When I was in first grade, a preschooler in our community was mauled by a police dog. I have vivid memories of her struggles and the subsequent comments my dad made about dogs: “Under the right circumstances, any dog will bite, maybe even attack.”

I knew this, but I now realize that I didn’t really believe it. I’m a dog lover. I’ve never been bitten by anyone else’s dog, and any bite I’ve gotten from my own animals was under adverse conditions that made a bite the only effective means of communication. So, when Isabella and I would be out walking and fenced-in dogs would bark at us, I didn’t jump or run or react. I might remark, “Well, hello there Noisy! Aren’t you unwelcoming today!” And Isabella and I would continue our walk. Lesson number one (a four-plus decades one that has lain in wait): Dogs will bite. And also, it hurts when they do.

In the moment

Anyway, the dog’s presence in my yard that day didn’t give me immediate cause for concern. I greeted him. He barked at Isabella. She barked back.

And then in a flash he was on her and I was trying to get between them, but he was stronger and faster and Isabella is a beagle princess, not a fighter, so she was trying to get away and I was screaming and screaming and screaming for help, and no one was coming, and I thought he was going to kill her especially when he went for her throat because he got her by the jugular and started to pull back and shake her. I got her away from him. (Isabella has rope burns from the leash which was looped under her tummy.) Losing his hold on her neck, he went for her leg, then he dove for her underbelly; at one point I thought, maybe he’ll pull her leg off and will be distracted by that and we can get away. I kept screaming for help, trying to find more volume from deep in my core and failing, fearing my voice would give out before help came. Eventually, I just curled down over Isabella, with my head and face covered and tried to keep hers covered as well.

A humor break: Isabella is a submissive dog; always has been. Still, she wanted to protect me somehow, so from under my left arm she barked intermittently. I am not fluent in beagle, but I think she said something like, “Please don’t do that!” or “That’s not nice!” or “Please stop!” Valiant effort but, bless her heart, not effective in the least.

Not able to gain purchase on his target, he went after me, grabbing my right arm. Just as he did, I saw the blood dripping from around his teeth and gums. I knew Isabella had been bitten badly.

And that’s when Mike, a neighbor from the next street over, came running down through the woods. The structure of our neighborhood is like an amphitheater with our house at the base and Mike’s at the rim. The acoustics are such that I can hear him talk on his phone when he is outside . . . and I have significant hearing loss! So, my screams carried up to his ears and he came running, as did Darlene, a woman who lives near him.

The Witnesses

Later, I asked Mike and Darlene what they witnessed.

Mike said, “The dog had a firm hold on your right arm growling and tugging. [I was yelling but] he never let go until I was only three feet from you and then he turned, showed his teeth, and started growling at me.”

Darlene said, “He had hold of something and was shaking it, but I couldn’t tell from where I was if it was your arm or your dog.”

Mike picked up a limb and threatened him which got the dog to respond. Then, Mike chased him back to his driveway and returned to check on me. Unbelievably, before Mike got to me, the dog was back, headed for me and Isabella, still huddled on the ground. This time, Mike chased him all the way back to his home where the teenaged son met him at the door and took possession of his dog.

Mike’s a big guy—well over six feet tall—with a big voice. “That dog was not afraid of me at all,” Mike told me. “Not at all.”

Darlene had arrived by this time. 

Isabella in her cone, accompanied by her favorite toy, Zingoz.

“I knew from the blood either you or your dog was badly hurt,” she told me. “When I arrived, I saw it was your arm and just made sure you kept pressure on it to slow the bleeding. Then I called 911.” (She made the call at 3:54 pm, meaning the whole thing lasted between 10 and14 minutes.)

Help arrives

The EMTs arrived in minutes, examined my arm, said I should probably see a doctor, and offered to drive me to the hospital. I declined, more anxious to get Isabella to the vet, but Jay (who had arrived about the same time as the EMTs) assured them that I would be going to see a doctor shortly. Animal control had arrived too; they made a report and impounded the dog.

The end result is that I’m fine and Isabella will be. My arm is very sore and bruised, but not broken. There are a few puncture wounds and the outline of a dog mouth imprinted in my skin, but the bone was not compromised, so healing should be quick and lasting. Isabella’s injuries were worse than mine. She had wounds at her throat, groin, and eye along with miscellaneous scratch and bite marks. However, she had quick surgery thanks to the good people at Cedar Ridge Animal Hospital, and will be just fine.

Some reflections

This is a complex situation that involves lots of humans. I’m an animal lover. And the dog is a family pet. His family loves him. They are good people who take care of their pets. This incident is evidence of a fencing problem, not a character flaw. I am not a perfect pet mom and have made my share of mistakes. I at least understand containment problems with dogs—I have had beagles for heaven’s sake. So, let’s all try to remember the Golden Rule here and treat them (in the comments) as we would want to be treated. They are suffering too. I cannot imagine how upsetting this has been for them.

Isabella and her favorite human a day or so after the attack.

The dog is a rescue. His current family did not train him to attack. Perhaps that was a part of his former life; it is for so many dogs. (And by the way, let’s make that stop.) I’m very sad for him. I know he just snapped due to something in his past that came slamming into the present. At some point, he was a puppy who was mistreated and neglected. Ultimately, those who use animals for harm are the ones who create this kind of perfect storm in the first place.

Still, I have been changed by this attack. It was terrifying. I thought it would never end. I thought I’d have to call our kids and tell them Isabella was gone. As a result of the attack, I will always be more cautious around animals. I’ll start carrying something to defend myself and my dog when we go for walks.

But what if. . .?

One thing keeps looping through my brain through all of this: what if Isabella were my human daughter (don’t tell her, but she is 100% canine), and the other dog was her boyfriend? It happens all around us you know. A little boy is abused, neglected, used for the wrong reasons. His past slams into his present and prevents him from having healthy relationships. He grows up and meets a girl who realizes the danger too late. You know the stories . . . they are legion.

I don’t know the answer to these problems, but I do know all of us are both broken and beautiful, and that God loves us beyond and through all of our imperfections. I know all children should be treasured, loved with an everlasting love. This incident changed me, but I will continue to try to love the people in my life deeply and fully as Christ loves me. My daily, fervent prayer is that the love I share will, by the power of the Holy Spirt, seep into cracks of pain and regret and will bring hope that empowers and transforms. Lord, in your mercy, hear my prayer.

Epilogue

February 19, 2021. It’s been a year today since the attack. Mainly, I’m grateful.

I am grateful for a wonderful therapist who helped me sort through it all and to understand my emotions and reactions. Physically, I’m completely fine. My arm is scarred, but it doesn’t hurt at all. And though I am way more cautious around dogs than I’ve ever been, that’s probably a good thing. I’m really okay.

I’m also grateful for our neighbors, the dog’s owners, who have been so considerate and intentional about the whole incident. Had it not been for the events of February 19, 2020, we would not know each other as we do now. They are lovely people. A reminder that there is always, always some good, some redemption. Always. Even if we don’t see it at first, or in our lifetimes. Redemption is a sure thing.

As for Isabella, her physical injuries healed as expected. But, for a full six months after it happened, she would have obvious flashbacks. She kind of shook all over and her teeth would clang together. It was positively heartbreaking. The vet prescribed Prosac, and it helps. One of her major injuries was to her eye and I’m still not convinced her vision was not affected.  No way to know for sure. And on the occasion that we are close enough to the spot, she sniffs at the place on the road where it happened; the blood stained the road and despite all the rain, snow, and sleet, it is still there. She looks up at me with a particular expression. I tell her I remember too and reassure her that we are both okay. 

Now Isabella has her paws full with a baby sister named Georgia. Georgia was born on September 28, 2020 and joined our family in November. She’s much feistier than Isabella and is aggressively playful. Isabella is finding her voice finally and telling her in bealglese to back off. I like to imagine that she is telling Georgia, “Look, I’ve been in a dog fight and won! Don’t mess with me.” 

 

beagles
Beagle Sisters, Georgia and Isabella, January 2021
Beagle-back-to-beagle-back naps are the best!
Beagle cuddles
Beagle cuddles are extra sweet!

By Aileen MItchell Lawrimore

Aileen Mitchell Lawrimore is a mother x 3, wife x 35 (years not men), minister, speaker, writer, retreat leader, and lover of beagles and books. She has a lot to say.