I got bitten by a dog today. One of those little nondescript dirty-white fluff balls that pollute the hallways of apartment blocks the world over. Maltese, Bolognese, Bichon Frise, something like that.
It was getting out of the lift, I did not make an attempt to pat it because this breed is to dogs what pigeons are to birds. Almost a sub-species; they are the cockroach of dogs.
Anyway, the fucking thing clearly sensed my disdain for its existence and lunged at my knee, sinking its teeth in. It hurt a reasonable amount and by the time I got up to my apartment I was thinking: if it broke the skin, I’m going to have to get a tetanus shot. But on the upside, I can probably have the thing put down. Destroyed, even.
I rolled up my jeans and was saddened. No puncture marks could be seen; there will be no blood feud today.
I would like to bump into the owner again and relay this story. I will suggest that she have Daisy, as the mutt is no-doubt called, preemptively destroyed.
I am aware that I am hitting the publish button on the 11th of January. I guess I forgot to hit it on the 30th of December.