The importance of dog etiquette
I took the pooch out for a walk tonight and one of my neighbors was also out with hers. She was keeping her dog on the other side of the park, but the two had noticed each other and wanted to play (or so I thought).
Apparently, her dog has issues with larger dogs, but likes females, so the other owner decided it would be okay for them to say hello. We didn't even get past the head-sniff (in polite dog circles, immediately followed by the butt-sniff) and her dog just attacked, clamping on to poor Misty's neck and holding on for all it's worth. So then there is a screaming mastiff (truly a horrendous sound), a growling (he looks like an American Staffordshire Terrier, his face was too square for a pit bull) attack dog, and two average-sized women trying to pull them apart, all the while screaming "LET GO" and other words (I'm pretty sure I recall saying something like "get your F*ING DOG TO LET GO" as I had visions of my dog's skin getting torn off in a big chunk. She was busy pounding on his head, trying to get him to loosen his grip (and was successful for a second but he just grabbed a different spot), I was trying to figure out what I could jam in between his jaws to break the lock, but realized that there was no f*ing way I was putting my hands anywhere near those jaws. I was cognizant enough to realize that no major arteries had (yet) been pierced, as only drops of blood were flying versus great gushes, but holy shmoly that was not a pleasant experience. At one point I was knocked to the ground (or lost my balance, who knows) and all I could think of was that friggin' dog going for MY throat as an alternative. I was back up on my feet in oh, I'm guessing 0.3 seconds.
Luckily, there were some guys hanging out in the park (guys that I would probably normally avoid like the plague) that came over, told both of us to step back a bit (while still holding the leashes) and then placed two serious kicks at the attack dog's chin/throat and he finally let go.
The woman thought her dog was hurt because of all the blood on his face, but that was MY dog's blood all over the place.
We traded phone & apartment numbers and she offered to pay the bill (no kidding!). To her credit, while she squeaked a bit at the price tag when I called with the estimate (big dogs have big vet bills - she's taking 3 amoxicillan capsules twice a day, and who knows how many mgs it took to knock her out to do the job?), she offered to come right over & pay the bill, so instead I just told her I'd pay it & come up for reimbursement when I got home.
On the humorous side, when the other owner asked the rescuers if my dog was okay, I heard them say "I think the dog's okay, but the owner seems pretty damn shook up, which I was). Also, getting a drugged 79.2kg dog into the back seat of a cab (that doesn't take big dogs but took pity on me when I promised she was doped up & mellow & I'd give him $20 for a $6 fare) was an exercise, as was getting her OUT of said cab.
And on the bright side, she's likely too doped up to try & climb onto my bed tonight, so I should actually have most of my bed to myself (assuming the traumatized 12-yr-old doesn't crawl in, and the 25 lb cat sticks to a corner vs. the middle of the bed as she is sometimes wont to do).
Thank God that f*&(*&ing dog didn't get a grip on anything important, and thank God again for the great design plan of mastiffs with lots of neck skin to confuse dastardly attack dogs. Oh, and THANK YOU GOD for sending those guys, because I'd probably STILL be in that damn park, screaming at the top of my lungs, pulling frantically, as would the owner of the other dog.
I will be watching to make sure she DOES invest in a muzzle for that damn dog. When I went upstairs to get the cash earlier tonight, she explained that although he was 2, she'd had him only a year as a rescue dog as his owner had died, and she'd just had him neutered about 2 weeks ago and he's been "strange" since then. Which is weird, because I neutered my malamute at 3 (he was also a rescue dog) and he just mellowed right out - while he was still "intact" as the vets like to call it, he wasn't vicious but other dogs would always always always attack (I think they were jealous or something), and he would certainly fight back.
Oh, and if ever you need an emergency vet in Edmonton, I highly recommend the one on 102nd Ave & 111 St. They were incredible, and gave me a couple of treatment options (go cheap & hope for the best or do it right the first time, which is of course the one I picked, and would have even if I were footing the bill).
Apparently, her dog has issues with larger dogs, but likes females, so the other owner decided it would be okay for them to say hello. We didn't even get past the head-sniff (in polite dog circles, immediately followed by the butt-sniff) and her dog just attacked, clamping on to poor Misty's neck and holding on for all it's worth. So then there is a screaming mastiff (truly a horrendous sound), a growling (he looks like an American Staffordshire Terrier, his face was too square for a pit bull) attack dog, and two average-sized women trying to pull them apart, all the while screaming "LET GO" and other words (I'm pretty sure I recall saying something like "get your F*ING DOG TO LET GO" as I had visions of my dog's skin getting torn off in a big chunk. She was busy pounding on his head, trying to get him to loosen his grip (and was successful for a second but he just grabbed a different spot), I was trying to figure out what I could jam in between his jaws to break the lock, but realized that there was no f*ing way I was putting my hands anywhere near those jaws. I was cognizant enough to realize that no major arteries had (yet) been pierced, as only drops of blood were flying versus great gushes, but holy shmoly that was not a pleasant experience. At one point I was knocked to the ground (or lost my balance, who knows) and all I could think of was that friggin' dog going for MY throat as an alternative. I was back up on my feet in oh, I'm guessing 0.3 seconds.
Luckily, there were some guys hanging out in the park (guys that I would probably normally avoid like the plague) that came over, told both of us to step back a bit (while still holding the leashes) and then placed two serious kicks at the attack dog's chin/throat and he finally let go.
The woman thought her dog was hurt because of all the blood on his face, but that was MY dog's blood all over the place.
We traded phone & apartment numbers and she offered to pay the bill (no kidding!). To her credit, while she squeaked a bit at the price tag when I called with the estimate (big dogs have big vet bills - she's taking 3 amoxicillan capsules twice a day, and who knows how many mgs it took to knock her out to do the job?), she offered to come right over & pay the bill, so instead I just told her I'd pay it & come up for reimbursement when I got home.
On the humorous side, when the other owner asked the rescuers if my dog was okay, I heard them say "I think the dog's okay, but the owner seems pretty damn shook up, which I was). Also, getting a drugged 79.2kg dog into the back seat of a cab (that doesn't take big dogs but took pity on me when I promised she was doped up & mellow & I'd give him $20 for a $6 fare) was an exercise, as was getting her OUT of said cab.
And on the bright side, she's likely too doped up to try & climb onto my bed tonight, so I should actually have most of my bed to myself (assuming the traumatized 12-yr-old doesn't crawl in, and the 25 lb cat sticks to a corner vs. the middle of the bed as she is sometimes wont to do).
Thank God that f*&(*&ing dog didn't get a grip on anything important, and thank God again for the great design plan of mastiffs with lots of neck skin to confuse dastardly attack dogs. Oh, and THANK YOU GOD for sending those guys, because I'd probably STILL be in that damn park, screaming at the top of my lungs, pulling frantically, as would the owner of the other dog.
I will be watching to make sure she DOES invest in a muzzle for that damn dog. When I went upstairs to get the cash earlier tonight, she explained that although he was 2, she'd had him only a year as a rescue dog as his owner had died, and she'd just had him neutered about 2 weeks ago and he's been "strange" since then. Which is weird, because I neutered my malamute at 3 (he was also a rescue dog) and he just mellowed right out - while he was still "intact" as the vets like to call it, he wasn't vicious but other dogs would always always always attack (I think they were jealous or something), and he would certainly fight back.
Oh, and if ever you need an emergency vet in Edmonton, I highly recommend the one on 102nd Ave & 111 St. They were incredible, and gave me a couple of treatment options (go cheap & hope for the best or do it right the first time, which is of course the one I picked, and would have even if I were footing the bill).
posted by Candace at 5/07/2006 11:42:00 PM
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