Bad karma or good, recycling my shirt?
In 2002, I made the mistake of giving a kid a ride home, and going to the porch to talk to his mother so he wouldn't get in trouble. He wasn't supposed to be at the school, but he did help us in the concession stand. It was a February night, cold, and rainy. I thought I was doing a good thing.
She let their big ass dog attack me, to make a long story short. He shredded my arm and my leg (behind the knee) and I wound up in the emergency room that night, filing a police report. If I hadn't quickly stood up, he would have gotten me in the throat, which was what he was aiming for.
He also shredded a very expensive embroidered school oxford I'd just gotten, ripping a huge series of holes in the bicep.
I kept the shirt, thinking I might need it for court. I never did sue them like I should have. They denied they were doing anything wrong by keeping a vicious animal. It came down to the police telling the woman to give up the unvaccinated dog for 10 days of rabies observation, or he was going to drag HER out and arrest her in front of her children. And destroy the dog, most likely in her front yard in front of the children as well, before Human Services came to pick them up.
They gave the dog over. Lucky for me, it didn't have rabies.
They never even said they were sorry about what happened. Just a simple apology would have done wonders.
You-know-who told me I should just throw it away. I feel that since I've paid for it with my own blood, I shouldn't have a problem wearing it again, if I can disguise that fact and remove the evidence that I almost died wearing it.
In some weird way, I feel like wearing the shirt again would be proof that I'm recovered from what happened, rather than reminding me of a near-death experence. I think about it every time I see my arm, or the back of my leg, anyway.
So I've cut the sleeves off and I'm going to re-hem them into short sleeves. If it looks awful, I can always throw it away. But I really liked the shirt, and there's no way a damn dog is gonna make me get rid of it.
She let their big ass dog attack me, to make a long story short. He shredded my arm and my leg (behind the knee) and I wound up in the emergency room that night, filing a police report. If I hadn't quickly stood up, he would have gotten me in the throat, which was what he was aiming for.
He also shredded a very expensive embroidered school oxford I'd just gotten, ripping a huge series of holes in the bicep.
I kept the shirt, thinking I might need it for court. I never did sue them like I should have. They denied they were doing anything wrong by keeping a vicious animal. It came down to the police telling the woman to give up the unvaccinated dog for 10 days of rabies observation, or he was going to drag HER out and arrest her in front of her children. And destroy the dog, most likely in her front yard in front of the children as well, before Human Services came to pick them up.
They gave the dog over. Lucky for me, it didn't have rabies.
They never even said they were sorry about what happened. Just a simple apology would have done wonders.
You-know-who told me I should just throw it away. I feel that since I've paid for it with my own blood, I shouldn't have a problem wearing it again, if I can disguise that fact and remove the evidence that I almost died wearing it.
In some weird way, I feel like wearing the shirt again would be proof that I'm recovered from what happened, rather than reminding me of a near-death experence. I think about it every time I see my arm, or the back of my leg, anyway.
So I've cut the sleeves off and I'm going to re-hem them into short sleeves. If it looks awful, I can always throw it away. But I really liked the shirt, and there's no way a damn dog is gonna make me get rid of it.
posted by Me at 2:21 PM
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