Last week Thursday I was letting the dogs outside when Maisy fell down the two steps from the house on her way to backyard, got herself twisted around and stuck in a kinda sorta boat looking pose with her hind legs up on the step and her butt on the patio. When I hoisted her hips up to put her legs under her body, a assist move that I’ve done many times before, she growled and turned around. It happened so fast that I didn’t even realize I had been bit until my daughter said “Mom, you are bleeding.”
Sure enough, she grazed my cheek, but a single tooth got me right in the smile line. Honestly, it felt worse than it looked. And my dog was very, very sorry. With her degenerative disc disease I must have grabbed her, or moved her, in a way that was painful to her.
I’ve been bit by my pets many times over the years, the worse was when my cat, Skyler, took a swipe at our then puppy, Phoebe, and got his paw stuck on her pronged collar. In an attempt to free them apart Skyler attacked my hand. And then my husband heard/saw the ruckus and figured the dog was mauling the cat and grabbed Phoebe by her collar and pulled her away — but the cat was still attached to her collar. Not fun.
Anyhow, by the end of Thursday I was on some wicked antibiotics, by Saturday my gut was completely out of whack, and by Monday I was calling my doctor for some new antibiotics. I’m now on two antibiotics in order to make up for the switch. My injury is practically healed, I’m sure I’ll have a small scar, but it’s not a big deal. My gut? Still unhappy.