Sunday, October 16, 2005

Roy vs. Kujo



So after the emotional football game, we decided that we should go eat tacos at the local place we love. So we did. Around 9 o´clock we started walking home. I walked Emily and Caitlin to Em’s house, where we were gonna call for a taxi to take Caitlin home. It was our luck, that one of Em’s neighbors used a taxi to get home, and Caitlin could take that one to her house. Caitlin left, as Em and I got dragged in to talking to her neighbor. As we started walking away, the female owner of the house opened the gate and Kujo ran out. He darted around me and then decided to make a quick turn on went after my leg. At first he missed my leg and got my pant leg. And I was like, this cant be good. Then his second attack got my leg. And yeah it hurt…but I was like…what do I do…STOP, DROP, and ROLL. Then I realized that was for a fire, but I figured instead of playing tug-of-war with Kujo (and having my leg used as the rope) I should fall to the floor and try not to pull away too much. When he finally sank his teeth into my leg, I thought about hitting the dog in the eye. But figured I didn’t want to hurt the dog, and secondly, I didn’t want the dog to stop biting my leg and go after my face. I finally (with a little bit of help from the male owner of Kujo) was able to pry to dog’s mouth open with my hands. I limped home (only a block away from Em´s) and told my family what happened. To make a long story short…I have about nine holes in my leg and needed 12 stitches. So as you probably got the idea, but Kujo won the battle.

However, during this same time Emily was at a safe distance trying to figure out what was happening. Then her neighbors started yelling "Su amigo . . . muerdio!" Through my screams, she couldn't make out every word. But all she really heard was muerdio (past tense verb for to bite), which is very similar to the word she understood, muerio (past tense verb for to die). So Emily is yelling to her neighbors that I am not dead, but just got attacked by a dog. It was quite funny when she told the story.

So now in the house, Don Victor (the 91 year old grandpa of the house) and I fight for the walker. So far I have won and am using it…but I can tell by the look in his eye that there is a fight still left in him. I just hope he doesn’t beat me down with his canes, in my sleep.

3 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

your a better person than me - to stop and consider whether or not to hurt the dog - for me I would have kicked, punched and run Forest run........

-DAD

8:01 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

yeah, For sUre roy cannot inJury another anImal unless it has four specific letters in it's name.

12:06 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Sound like everything turned out OK, Thank God. Hope everything else is going ok.

Eleazar

5:14 PM  

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