Puncture Wounds

Today I was bitten by a dog.

It’s been a while.

It was the neighbour’s dog, and, well, what’s a puncture wound or two between friends? But I have thought about it since. I thought I did everything right. I had gloves on, I removed one, and when the dog approached – barking, I stood still and let him sniff and lick my fingers.

So far so good.

I let him lead me to his master. I followed. Only when I was done talking, and started walking back off the property, did the little bugger sneak up and bite me behind the knee.

Puncture wound.

Singular.

The last time was a full on scrap, out on the sea ice, with dogs at the end of ganglines, fur, teeth, and claw. In my inferior wisdom and with a colossal lack of judgement, I waded in – empty-handed. But, I now have a wonderful tattoo on my right arm – Vitus’ teeth in a half crescent.

Puncture wounds.

Plural.

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