A boy, a Bob, a bite, a blog

Last Summer we went to San Diego on vacation. We were there a week. Jared and Marza had gotten an Akita. He was a rescue dog. He was a few years old. He had been wonderful, tolerant with the kids. So when Wg3 was near Bob the dog's bed petting him we didn't really give it a second thought.

Bob the dog. That's what we called him. Sometimes just Bob, but mostly Bob the dog. Bob had been in some street fights and had surgery to fix up some mangled ears. I think they were still sensitive. So that when Wg3 was being obnoxious, and I'm sure he was... he's an active, even over-active boy, he hit Bob the dog in a sensitive spot. Bob snapped at him once. Thank God only once.

Naomi screamed and I came to pick Wg3 up. Damage assessment. I saw a gash on his chin. I remember thinking it was weird that it wasn't bleeding. I walked him into the bathroom to take a closer look. I think everyone else was in shock. I looked inside his mouth. There were two puncture wounds inside Wg3's mouth and a gash on his chin. All his teeth were in place. His tongue looked okay.

I carried Wg3 to the car. As I put him in the car Wg3 asked, "Dad, am I gonna die?" "No son, you're not gonna die. We're just going to the hospital." Uncle Jared went along with us to show me the way to the hospital.

When we got there we were seen right away. I don't want to insinuate that it was quick, we were there 3 or 4 hours, but we were admitted into an interior waiting room right away. Wg3 was very anxious about getting any "stingy stuff." To you and I this is a shot. I told him he wouldn't need one, that it would be okay. It turns out I was wrong.

All I remember between the time we were admitted and the time the doc showed up is that I wanted to comfort him. We lay together and we talked and I stroked his head and I felt helpless. When the doc showed up we talked about what would happen. To do the stitches they would inject Novocaine into the gash. This would numb the area for the stitches.

I turned him over to the doctor. He resisted of course and they pinned him down and he screamed and he cried. "My Dad said there wouldn't be any stingy stuff. Dad! Dad! Help me! My Dad said there wouldn't be any stingy stuff. Dad! Daddy!" I was right there. I was useless.

By all estimates the doctor was very quick. I was amazed actually at how quick he was. I'd guess 90 seconds for the whole thing. I wanted to cry though. I want to cry now. They gave him back to me and I tried to just hold him. I wanted to absorb his pain, to take it from him, but of course I couldn't.

He never cried during the bite. Maybe it just happened so quickly or he was stunned or it just wasn't a sensitive spot, but he never cried then, not until the Novocaine. It turns out the mouth is very vascular and they didn't do a thing for the puncture wounds inside the mouth. Sure enough, a few days later and you could hardly tell Bob had bitten him inside his mouth.

Wg4's back in the saddle, petting dogs. He's himself I'd say. He's gregarious and bold, intrepid even. We love him very much.

I don't blame Bob the dog any more than I blame Wg3. They are what they are. Jared and Marza got rid of the dog. I feel bad about that, but am grateful I don't have to see Bob anymore. The scar on Wg4's chin is almost invisible. We've tried to care for it. You'd never know it happened I think.

But I know it happened. I've never felt so scared, so useless, so worthless, so humble all in one day.