Hair of the dog

We passed our girls off to our next door neighbour this morning and went out for breakfast, a way to relax after the week we’ve had. With all the drywalling going on, the sink has been inaccessible since Wednesday and the living room is a total state, two things that have lain heavy in my mind.
On the way into our favourite coffee shop, there was a man with an attractive, if rather excited, seven month old dog. My wife petted it, as she always does with dogs, and then as I walked past it sprang up and bit my arm.

This is why I prefer cats to dogs. Cats will bite and claw you in the comfort of your own home, or if you chase after them. Dogs will bite you while you’re minding your own business and their owners aren’t controlling them.

So now I had a hole in one of my favourite sweatshirts, and a bruised forearm. It didn’t look like the teeth had punctured my skin but with my last tetanus jab being a decade ago I wasn’t taking chances, so this afternoon I was at the doctor, getting a jab in my arm, after getting a flu jab in my other arm this morning.

Dogs. Grr. I’d gone 45 and a half years without ever getting bit, and then this happens. Quite takes the shine off getting coffee.

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