Dog Bites Man

I remember opening the screen door as I had everyday at the same address . The newspaper was still in my hand as I glanced into the backyard to see how my friend the giant German Shepard was behaving. As usual he was barking loudly and running toward me. Normally he would get to the end of his leash tied securely to his dog house in the yard far enough away so that any visitor would not feel threatened but still feel the fear of his menacing growl. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed that he seemed closer today when I put the paper down. I had barely closed the screen door when I felt the hot breath of the beast as he closed in on me, leaping for my face. Instinctively I raised my arm for protection. Luckily it had been raining that day I was wearing my raincoat. I am convinced that it saved my arm from many stitches. I swung my arm with all of my weight giving me just enough space from the growling teeth to make my escape. As I hit the fence door closing it behind me I was able to breath again with my four legged enemy inches away from me on the other side barking loudly with  frustration because he had lost his prey. Being a paperboy was a dangerous job when I was a boy.
That was the last and only time that I was bitten or even attempted to be bitten by anything let alone a dog. Now you would think with my history of stitches, falls, and many landscaping and house repair mishaps that I would have had a dog bite or two. But no, or at least not until earlier this week.
I'm riding my bike on a nearby trail when I came a couple and what looked like a friendly dog. As I passed them I felt a slight sting on my leg as the dog, straining at his leash, leaped at my ankle. Well my sock began to fill with blood and I knew that my relaxing ride was over. The owners apologized and I left not thinking of the pain in ankle but the doctor visits, shots, paperwork and the " what happened to you today?" question that Jo was going to ask when she got home from work and she noticed all of the blood soaked paper towels scattered throughout the house.
I don't like these small accidents and not because of the damage they do to my now scared and ravaged old body but because of endless explanations of how this particular mishap happened. The latest in a long line of what makes my family and friends eyes roll and sigh thinking he has done it to himself again....guilty. I have always be sum of the various physical mishaps of my life with the scares that I carry acting as permanent reminder of what I have done to my body. I have only broken something in me once..( yea that was a big one ) ... but I have had a problem keeping the blood on the inside where it belongs. Oh well it is recovery time again.