Monday, May 16, 2011

Hair Of The Dog

We all have those childhood moments that we try to erase from our memories, so that we may recall our formative years as being free of any kind of torment. My worst moment was brought back in stunning detail when, just last week, a friend of mine had a rather nasty chunk of ass bitten into by a roaming street thug puppy.

I must have been around 11 or 12 years old, in the midst of a dreary Scottish winter (let's be honest, all seasons in Scotland are dreary). We had just been hit with a fair dump of snow, a fairly rare occurrence in my neck of the woods, and we had constructed a fantastic slide on the sidewalk of our street. To make said slide, we had to tramp down the snow, whilst carefully applying cold water to make a long, deathly slippery patch of ice where we could demonstrate our sliding skills. The goal here was not a triple toe loop, or a full twisting sukahara. Oh No!! It was, "THE WEE MAN". The idea was to take a long run up, hit the slide at full speed, then crouch down, arms spread with arse as close to the ground as possible. This was not an easy task for me as i was a spindly, long legged beanpole of a lad, but I am proud to announce that I tore the rear out of more than 1 pair of trousers, such was my proximity to the street on my wee man runs.

A bunch of us were out on the street, honing our skills, when a neighborhood dog, and well known biter, pounced on us like an out of control jungle cat. We scattered in all directions, the flame eyed, slobber-toothed hellhound (or whippet to give it it's proper name), making a beeline for one of my friends. I pounded the pavement, only a short distance to the safety of my house. The bastard pooch, unable to catch my friend, turned to me, and quickly ran me down. He proceeded to sink his teeth into my arm, before turning to my pants, trying to get a grip that would bring me to the ground. I screamed like an overzealous porn star, desperately trying to keep my drawers up so as my pathetic little pee pistol (I was 11 people, there has been some personal growth in that area since then) would not be exposed to the world.

No-one came to help. Not even my sister who was across the street babysitting for friends. She heard the screams, the calls to Mummy, and the pleas to God and baby Jesus for a life saving bolt of lightning, but she chose that moment to find some serious humor in my predicament (tears of joy still spring to her eyes when we recall the event). I finally made it to the front door, and with a Herculean effort I freed the jaws of Anubis from my arm.

That's not where the horror ends I'm afraid. A quick phone call to my working Mum, and then a cab ride to hospital was where the true indignity of the day began. I was examined by a burly nurse who exclaimed that the skin had been broken and a tetanus shot would be required. She spayed a cold, soothing anesthetic on my wound and said she would return with the shot in a moment. The pain quickly receded, and I began to feel somewhat better. Better that is until she returned with a phalanx of assistants, all needed to hoist the massive spear looking needle into the waiting room. My sphincter tightened at the sight, something that must have been clearly visible to the entire health team when my pants were dropped for the injection. As the needle pierced my right buttock, I wondered aloud why my arm had been frozen and not my tender, virgin buttocks. No reason was ever given, but I am sure that shower of bastards probably had a good laugh at my discomfort over their lunch break.

The next week to 10 days was agony, as the simple act of walking or climbing stairs became agony. I had a bruise that resembled the map of the Lost World Of Atlantis on my ass cheek, and 1 week after my attack, another kid was bitten and the dog finally put to sleep. It's a funny thing that when I recall that evening, it's not the howling, growling or teeth gnashing that set my skin crawling, rather it's the witch like cackling of my sister as she witnessed my impending demise that keeps me awake. She is here visiting now, and I am sure I will get to hear that cruel laugh one more time as she reads this, then it's back to blotting out the memory.

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