I was just attacked by a full-sized SS Nazi German Shepherd. In a very small space.
He got away from my neighbor, and attempted to make Oliver his appetizer.
If you've never been charged by a ginormous dog that's been bred to attack, well, you're not missing anything. Trust me on this.
I remember watching, in what seemed like slow motion, this dog coming at me in a low, determined crouch.
I remember looking into it's eyes thinking, "Wow, he's serious. This could be bad."
I remember hearing Oliver sound off in his attack mode next to me, and I think that snapped me into action.
I instinctually grabbed Oliver by his harness and swung him up over my head.
The Nazi dog jumped on me to get to Oliver and tore my shirt and scratched my neck and stomach up pretty good.
Good times. Good times indeed.
It was a complete accident, I know this, and my neighbor has already been over to see if I'm okay and provide shot records so that I don't have to worry about rabies, etc.
What's funny is I don't remember anything that happened between having the Nazi dog on me immediately after Oliver went airborne to when I was in the elevator going up to my floor. I think the fight/flight response took over.
I wonder if I made any sound, or what I said, if anything, to my neighbor?
I'm starting to think I should ask my neighbor the next time I see him what I did during the attack. Part of me wants to make sure I didn't go off on him, but the other part feels justified in saying whatever was said.
Because nobody puts my baby Oliver in a corner.
1 comment:
That sounds terrifying!
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