bitten by my dog

don’t bite the hand that feeds you

Over the past month, my dog Ronan has bitten me twice.

The image below is what’s left of the bite administered on the 15th of May.  All that remains is a scratch from what was a quite painful gash located a couple of inches under my thumb.  [photographed on Sunday, June 9]  There were marks across the top of my hand, ending on the outside below my pinky.

We have photos capturing the result of the injury sustained last Friday the 7th.  The hand is still swollen.  My thumb also got in on the action.  The canine culprit is partly visible at the bottom.  At least this time, it was my left hand!  (Like most people, I am right-handed.)

The question is “why”?  Why would our loving little guy resort to such savagery?  Here were my initial thoughts.  The first time he had scooped up a mouthful of kibbles, which then fell out of his mouth all over the floor.  He dutifully retraced his steps, hoovering them from the surface.  There was one left, which I proceeded to place in his bowl, reaching from behind.

In the next moment, I shrieked.  Twice.  Perhaps that’s a good word: shrieked.  It was both intense pain and terrifying surprise—oh Lord, yes, surprise—that consumed me.

I ran to the kitchen, turned on the tap, and mixed water with blood emanating from various points on the appendage.  My wife, Banu, was in another part of the house, but it’s safe to say my loud decibel reaction was easily audible.  Banu maintains a supply of healing accessories, including colloidal silver and bentonite clay.  My sister Nikki, who works in the medical field, procured some antibiotics.  (It still seems a bit strange to call her my sister.  I have written on the family situation before.)

I swore I had learned my lesson: do not put my hand near Ronan’s mouth while he is eating.  That’s likely true for most dogs.

Alas, I suppose it was a lesson in need of review.  This time, I noticed a napkin on the floor which was stained with food he had been sampling.  Ronan was lying beneath a table.  A trash basket was also under, located at the far side.  I (absent-mindedly as it turned out) placed the napkin into the basket.  Replay the events from May 15.  I am proud to say there was but a single shriek this time.

But again, why?

There is the before-mentioned reason concerning proximity to food.  However, a complicating factor for the second bite was no edibles were in the immediate vicinity.  At least, I didn’t think so.

It can’t be denied that our buddy has been stressed.  Just a few months ago, he lived in a large house (as in mansion large) with a yard the size of a football field.  From there he went to a modest house with a modest yard.  And now our dog is confined for too many hours a day to a single room.  And that, in a house with six cats.  He has become nervous surrounded by felines.  (In fairness, they actually live here!)  Banu and I have been making certain steps to alleviate his distress.

[our loving little guy with his head on my shoulder]

And considering “why,” there are clearly possibilities of physical distress, of physical pain.  We all act differently when subjected to pain.

I suppose one excellent way to understand motive would be to inhabit the mind of “the other,” in this case, my dog.  I have often pondered some exploration.  I have wondered what it would be like to take a trip inside my dog, experiencing reality from his perspective.  What about his mental state…  his physical state…  his emotional state…  his spiritual state…  his state of—whatever we can’t conceive…

…and then, to be returned to myself, being able to remember with perfect clarity the experience.

Banu and I do not rule out the effects of energies.  We affirm them.  Dogs and other animals (including cats!) are often more attuned to these forces.  Ronan can sense stressors radiating from the two of us.  For that matter, there is no doubt some bad juju flowing through the house.  There can be spirits, both good and bad, at work.

Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.  We are often (perhaps usually) too obtuse to appreciate the benefits offered us.  We bite the hand.

I pray it won’t take a couple more bites of my hand to learn that lesson.  Oh well, there is a world of reminders.