Flash showing off the bandages.
My poor old dog was bitten pretty viciously last night. A large yellow dog clamped her jaws on his neck in a total death grip. Two men weren't able to pull her off. Finally my friend pounded on her muzzle (so hard he actually bruised his hand) and she eventually opened up, trotted off and sat there wagging her tail.
Flash was howling oww oww oww!in a panic, and I distinguished myself by standing there screaming the whole time. We were all hopped up on adrenaline at the moment, but by the time we got home, Flash crashed into doggy shock. I started searching for all the puncture wounds, shaving his ruff and cleaning him up, and he just lay there in a trance. That was more freaky than anything, really.
He was a very sad puppy this morning. Took him to the vet and got him all bandaged and medicated. After the pain pill kicked in, he was trying to get people to throw the frisbee and generally acting pretty silly. Of course, tonight not so much.
(One funny note: when the vet gave us the pain meds, he said: "This is very safe stuff. No potential for abuse." What, are there junkie dogs out there scoring pills by the fire hydrant? Glad to know Flash isn't headed down that slippery slope - a strung-out dog pawning his squeaky toys for drug money.)
I thought my dog was grumpy with other dogs, but this dog was completely psychotic. Her owner said, "she's passive-aggressive." I think she's a true danger to the neighborhood. (And yes, they're picking up the vet bill.)
I'm very grateful to Spence, who immediately took charge: beating apart the locked jaws, talking to the neighbors, finding a vet, driving us there. He's my hero, and Flash's alpha dog.
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