Whilst drinking heavily friday night, I stretched over my bed, arching my body from this chair, aiming to grab a packet of rizla near to Oscar's head. He was sleeping, so I thought...but as my face passed his back he leapt to life and viciously mauled my nose. My shock was followed with grabbing his throat and throwing him in the backyard...blood was streaming down my face, following me from my room. I roused the frenchies from their 24 fest who kindly cleaned me up. The wounds saturday looked gruesome. Three separate cuts, two of which stopped bleeding quickly, and do not seem deep, but a third, along the left nostril, longer and deeper, which bled for longer...As he actually BIT, the cartilage inside is also somewhat upset, and the whole area felt painful yesterday. I forced myself to visit the pharmacist, growing irritated at everyone staring at me, and was happy to get my medicines and scurry home, to hide away from the world, until at least i appear more human. To remedy my injuries, and to help avoid any scarring, I have been cleaning regularly with anti bacterial cream, then covering the bloody battle lines with a special healing gel, which is supposed to promote scar free recovery of sensitive tissue. Back to work tomorrow, which I am far from eager to confront, as my positon of courier, means I literally meet and greet every single area of the council twice daily...still, that seems rather clownish and cowardly to be bothered by people staring at me. I should take the opprtunity to practice my story telling talents... 'i was attacked by a bunch of blacks run amok on pcp'...'i rescued my puppy from the jaws of a bear'...'a little old lady was riding her bike on the pavement so i clotheslined the bitch...and laughed as she went down. But as i turned to walk away, my chest filling with a definite sense of triumph, the hag struck back, bottling me from behind...blinded by the blood, she escaped before i could scalp her'
As for Oscar. He had attacked because he was sleeping next to a small piece of bone, which I had not seen him bring to the bed. He slept outside for a while, then i let him into the lounge before i went to bed. Waking at 630am, for a piss, he came straight back into my room, then growled at me when i dragged him by his neck back to the lounge, and threw him into a couch. The next day, he was sad, depressed, upset. We made friends again...no more bone. And I must now be certain of taking him to a dog whisperer or mincing machine, in the near future, so as to avoid a repeat of such nastiness.
As for Oscar. He had attacked because he was sleeping next to a small piece of bone, which I had not seen him bring to the bed. He slept outside for a while, then i let him into the lounge before i went to bed. Waking at 630am, for a piss, he came straight back into my room, then growled at me when i dragged him by his neck back to the lounge, and threw him into a couch. The next day, he was sad, depressed, upset. We made friends again...no more bone. And I must now be certain of taking him to a dog whisperer or mincing machine, in the near future, so as to avoid a repeat of such nastiness.
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