Blaze was attacked while I was walking him after dinner last Sunday. A German Shepherd didn't like the looks of him I guess and burst through his front door, tore down the street and chomped on Blaze's rear end. He got a couple of bites in before I managed to get a good enough kick in to dislodge him.
His owners were right behind the dog, yelling for me to do just that; kick him. I was pissed off by this time and didn't need any further encouragement. The whole attack probably lasted 10 seconds. Ten long seconds.
Blaze was trying to defend himself, and cower alternatively. He's fairly submissive, easy going, which is good for a family dog that is hugged more than he likes.
When we got home I gave him a bath to get the smell of the other dog off him and to assess any damage. My husband found some punctures and we decided to sew them up ourselves so he went off to the hospital and collected what we needed. That part went okay.
But the next morning he needed to go to the vets and was put on anti-inflammatory/pain meds and a broad spectrum antibiotic. And then two days later he had to return to the vets because he'd developed an abscess in a couple of the wounds which needed lancing and draining. So he came home from that visit still woozy from the sedative, sporting a Cone of Shame. With instructions for no off-leash activities for 14 days.
All that to say that this has been a really stressful summer. Layers and layers of stress have pressurized me. So much so that my head feels like a tangle of scrap metal, and I lose my train of thought many many times a day. Yes I have upped my meds, and that does help. (I wouldn't wish an anxiety disorder/depression on ANYONE, friend of foe.) And I've blown off a bit of steam here and there. (being honest here)
But I'm looking forward to the end of it all. It will end, I know that -- see, therapy was good for something -- but I'd sure like to release this breath and take a new fresh one.