My dog, Ray, bit me last night. He was asleep on my bed next to me like always except that he was upside down with his feet near my chest and his head near my hips. I was falling asleep curled around him but was uncomfortable so I turned to face the other direction. I'm not sure what happened. Perhaps my sudden movement scared him. Perhaps he was having a doggy nightmare and thought I was the perpetrator of his dream, like a combat vet suddenly woken in the night who suddenly tries to strangle his partner lying next to him, my Ray reached out and clamped down twice on the knuckles of my left hand as it passed over his body. I screamed and he scrambled under the bed. I felt the familiar swelling of the crushing blow and got up to evaluate the damage. Had I not pulled my hand away, I might have gotten away with just a crushing injury but one of his teeth left a half inch slice between two knuckles. It was deep but had not yet begun to bleed. I knew from experience that this would follow. I grew light headed and sat down on the ground and began to cry. Not again, I thought. I can't keep doing this and, it'll be another 3-4 weeks before I can entertain kayaking.
Since Ray came into my life 9 months before, my kayaking plans had been affected three or four times by such incidents. Last May I registered for an incident management class, a two day clinic at Deception Pass in Washington. A week or two earlier Ray had chomped on my hand three times before releasing it when I was toweling him off following a walk in the drizzle. The wounds were no longer open but the hand was still yellow-green, tender and swollen . I was unable to don my tight fitting NRS Maverick glove needed to protect my fingers from the cold water near the Pass where we'd be spending most of the day submerged, practicing rescues.
In September I was registered for a two day Navigation class. We would be spending the first day in the classroom and the second on the water. The night before the first day of class, Ray had been sleeping near my feet. This was unusual but we'd never had an incident during the night so it took me by surprise when he bit my foot as I rolled over. With the padding of my comforter and sock for protection, the skin was not broken. However by day two, my foot was too swollen and tender to fit into my neoprene boot or to tolerate the pressure I'd have to place on it to push against the kayak's foot peg during the forward stroke and I had to pull out of the day's activities.
In December, Ray was in bed with me before lights out when my son appeared in the doorway. Ray began to growl. "Looming behavior", approaching Ray on the bed or couch, is one of his triggers for aggression. In this case, my son was a good 6 feet away and in no immediate danger. Instead of asking him to walk away, I was hoping to calm Ray without removing the triggering stimulus. I had no treats at the bedside so I talked to Ray reassuringly, "It's okay Ray. You're okay." Then I did something one might do to reassure a distressed child which, I learned, is the last thing you should do to a threatening dog, even when he is not threatening you. I stroked his back. This would prove to be the worst of all my injuries. Ray struck my hand hard and fast though I must have seen it coming because he bit me as I was removing my hand. This caused one of his teeth to slice through the tissue on the underside of my ring finger. There were also two puncture wounds on the topside of the finger and a bleeding and bruised nail bed which today remains as a purple line marking the bottom 1/3 of my nail. This was the only time I cried due to pain. Without the aid of stitches, it took a good 4 weeks to to heal. It has been healed a week or two now and I've begun to think about paddling again. I've been checking the NOAA marine point forecast waiting for a break in the predicted high wind, small craft advisories to plan a day trip but now, another open wound.
There have been other incidents as well, and I have cried each and every time. My roommate has also been bitten. She never cries. Around my 3rd bite she asked me why I was crying. Was it because of pain? Like my electrifying scream, the tears were automatic but they were not because of pain. Her question, lingered in my mind for several seconds before I answered, "No. It's more like my feelings were hurt."
It reminded me of the times when someone I loved did or said something so hurtful, something that someone who loves you never should, and you realize that they aren't capable of caring for you in the way that you want and deserve. You are faced with two choices, both painful. Do you stay, continuing to love and care for them knowing that they will continue hurting you, or do you walk away and mourn the loss? When does the cost of caring outweigh the moments of joy? This is the dilemma I face with each injury. This is the reason I cry.
