{"id":984,"date":"2019-07-16T18:52:10","date_gmt":"2019-07-16T22:52:10","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.patrickokens.com\/?p=984"},"modified":"2019-07-16T18:52:12","modified_gmt":"2019-07-16T22:52:12","slug":"when-dogs-attack-sacrificing-my-wrist-to-save-my-balls","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.patrickokens.com\/?p=984","title":{"rendered":"When dogs attack: sacrificing my wrist to save my balls"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\"Fb-Button\"\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/a>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>
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We will never know whether the bared fangs\nwere actually snapping at my cojones<\/em>.\nBut the truth is that I put my forearm in harm\u2019s way and I am glad I did. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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You’ll take my prescriptions from my sweaty, bandaged arm!<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Moments earlier: a mid-size, brown-coated overachiever leaps out of his yard and onto the street, running towards me. He stops just short, barking mad. Another dog joins the fray. The lead dog leaps, bites and drops.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Context: I am out for a Sunday morning run,\nlightly clothed, carrying nothing I can use as a weapon. Nowhere to escape. No\none around. The dogs aren\u2019t big, but they have already drawn blood.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Option 1 \u2013 flight: I could turn and bolt.\nBut that\u2019s inviting more bites on an undefended backside by two aggressive,\nemboldened canines.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Option 2 \u2013 fight: Man bites dogs? Really? <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Option 3 \u2013 back away, defend, buy time. I\nfaced them, ready to block again and retreated slowly. A man came out of the\nhouse, bellowed at the dogs, and they ran back as fast as they had come. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The whole thing can\u2019t have taken more than\nfifteen seconds.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A futile exchange with the guy (likely the hacienda\u2019<\/em>s caretaker). I asked for soap to clean the cuts and received none. Later on, I talk to someone who will be in touch with the man again to make sure the dog isn\u2019t rabid.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I know El Valle\u2019s clinic is only two kilometres away and run there. It is not busy and Doctor Gomez is sitting at his desk eating pieces of fruit out of a Tupperware container. I have no I.D. or money on me, and drip sweat all over the intake form, gringoing my way through an explanation. El medico<\/em> mercifully switches to English, directs the nurse to clean the wound, and writes prescriptions for a tetanus shot (they have none at the clinic) and antibiotics. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

In the afternoon, a cheerful Aussie changes\nher plans to drive me to a clinic in Coronado where I get the meds. For the\nnext five days, I get to gulp penicillin and have a sore wrist. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019ve had worse. Self-inflicted missteps leading to broken extremities, traveller\u2019s diarrhea (including a woeful 36 hours here), and a lung infection in India. And in all my years of travel, and running and cycling over many thousands of kilometres, this is the only dog attack. I was once assaulted by a monkey, but that\u2019s another story.<\/p>\n