Was it inevitable? We’ll never know.

What is known is that my son’s 90 lb. German Shepherd bit me yesterday morning with no provocation. I was sitting at the desk working on the laptop and Nana was rummaging around my chair. I reached down to pet her and Rambo chomped down onto my forearm and wrist with enough force to draw blood. Luckily for me, this time the entire episode was viewed by my son who has been of the opinion that every time Rambo has attacked me in the past has, somehow, been my fault. In all previous attacks I was wearing my blue flannel house jacket, but this time it was a bare arm bite. I’ve had inflicted pain before, but this is my first animal bite and I do not wish to have another.

When I finally regained some sense of composure I told my son Rambo was a vicious dog and either he had to go or I was moving out. My son finally admitted Rambo needed to go. This morning he went down to city hall and arranged to relinquish ownership of Rambo and have him euthanized. When he got back he put the muzzle on Rambo and left in the car. I know this was very difficult for my son and told him I was sorry it had to come to this, but I couldn't live with Rambo knowing he could attack me again.

Now, I have some fairly serious puncture wounds that I will have to watch for infection and wait for the pain to go away. I’d like to take something for it, but I’m allergic to all the over-the-counter analgesics except aspirin, which I can’t take because it messes with the blood levels of my mood stabilizer. So I suffer, know that in time the pain will go away. It’s good that I can still write even though I haven’t written anything for over a week. I’m still getting use to my new anti-psychotic and hope, in time, I will be able to get back to working on the stories I have in production.