Things often attack me. When I was little the neighbours had a dog. It used to bite my toes. I'm sure I wasn't the only one not wearing shoes, but I am pretty sure I was the only one who was ever bitten by it.
When I was 13 or so I had a friend who had a ridiculous little yappy white puppy dog. It used to go into a frenzy of yapping and salivating and attempted-attacking whenever I went to her house. I remember arriving at her place one day, and seeing this white whirlwind of fluff and saliva and fangs come charging down the hallway at me. It leapt up (and for those of you who may not have noticed, I am quite tall. I don't know if I was quite this tall when I was 13, but I imagine I must have been tall-ish, at least compared to some midget dog) and bit me on the top of the back of my thigh. It must have really made a good leap to get that high up on my leg. In my memory it latched on and flailed around and then took a big hunk of flesh out of me, while I ran pathetically around in circles trying to swat it away. I doubt this actually happened, but I do recall the subsequent trip to the doctor's office for a tetanus shot. My friend and I parted ways shortly afterwards.
A few months ago I was in a nursery (pot plant shop, not small child hangout) when I was attacked by a bird. I was by no means the only person around, but I was the only one who got swooped, and repeatedly swooped at that, by this pesky territorial bird. The first time I was surprised. The second time I was vaguely amused, although the wind in my hair hinted at how close the bird came to me. The third and subsequent times I was a bit terrified and announced this to everyone by yelling "eek!", covering my head and ducking like I was in a war zone. Some stranger in the nursery said to me "wow, those birds really like you. Can you just stay over there and keep them away from the rest of us?". Sigh.
In late December I was attacked by a cat I tried to pat in the street behind my house in Sydney. I was left with big slashes down my wrists and blood dripping all over my hands. I was on my way out and I had no tissues, so I ended up arriving where I was going (a pub) with a big, red, swollen hand, coated with dried blood. Nice way not to be mugged - look more insane than your potential attacker.
Anyway, I have discovered that one of my close neighbours is a horse. This horse lives in a stable at the end of my block, and when I walk past he looks at me with his big friendly horsey eyes, and Anne-of-Green-Gables-style visions of some sort of quasi-rural idyll flit through my mind (I never actually read any Anne of Green Gables so I don't know if this is a reasonable description or not). I would go and make friends with him, but there is a mysterious sign below his window. It is in german, obviously, and partially obscured by weather-beatenness. I suppose it only says something like "don't feed the horses", but I can also imagine it might say "don't pat the horses because they don't like you and they would bite your hand off as soon as look at you". So I am keeping my distance. Which is a pity, because I like patting strange animals that I come across. I have the scars to prove it.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
5 comments:
So, what i'm reading here is that you get attacked by dogs with foot and ass fetish (upper back thigh ???). As for attacking birds etc, i get that too, but i carry a stick or tennis racquet to defend myself...
It was definitely my leg that the dog bit. Maybe he was aspiring to reach my bum, but he didn't manage.
And incidentally, I thought that the way to protect yourself from birds that might attack you was to wear an ice-cream container with eyes drawn on it on your head. I'm sure that's what Hmm The Queen would do.
We have never been attacked by birds -- though one's corgis were swooped by an angry pheasant once so we gave it both barrels. Blew it to kingdom come of course -- it was completely inedible, enough lead to poison a hotel full of MI6 agents. Mummy laughed so much her teeth fell out.
Well, we have to be going away again now -- dinner party at the palace with some nice chap from the government who wants to talk to us about the weather getting warmer, or some such thing. He may be correct -- Fortescue! Fortescue! Another G&T . . . on the rocks this time.
Horses with big brown limpid eyes are friendly and like to be patted by strangers. Horses that don't like people have nasty little squinty eyes and an Elvis-like sneer. Take the plunge. Pat the horse. You only live once.
But if you don't have a hand, how are you supposed to cut the top off boiled eggs?
Post a Comment