Don’t pat strange dogs – Updated

While out and about I always say hello to the dogs I meet, and most of them want to be friendly. I have patted hundreds of them over the years, and never been bitten – until last week. I was walking past a cafe where a medium sized black dog was sitting with his family at an outside table. Our eyes met. I began to approach him, assuming he wanted a pat, but he suddenly lunged forward and sank his teeth into my hand. It was a deep bite and very painful. I went into shock and almost fainted. The dog’s devastated owner and the cafe staff were very helpful, bringing me water and putting iodine and a plaster on the wound. After a while I felt well enough to continue on my way.

The pain continued all day, and by next morning my whole hand was red and swollen. My husband came with me to the emergency department of our local hospital. I was seen by a specialist nurse who gave me a tetanus booster and some blood tests, arranged for a hand X-Ray and admission to the orthopaedic ward.

The ward was full, so I spent the first day receiving my intravenous antibiotics in the corridor of a crowded and noisy medical assessment unit. I was transferred to a spare bed in a gynaecology assessment unit overnight, and finally reached the orthopaedic ward before lunchtime next day. This was not ideal but the important thing was having been promptly started on treatment, without which I realise I could have lost an arm or even died.

Being in hospital was a new experience for me and not nearly so bad as I expected. All the staff I encountered were skilled, efficient and kind. It was interesting to chat to other patients, and good to receive visits and messages from family and friends. I felt surprisingly well during my stay but it was a while before the cellulitis began to resolve. I was scheduled for surgical drainage on the third day, but by then the operation was judged to be unnecessary and I was discharged home to continue on oral medication for another week.

Dogs usually bite because they feel threatened, and it is those who have been abused as puppies who are more likely to become aggressive in later life. The owner has kept in touch and I hope to meet him again to find out something about the culprit’s background and character, and try to understand why I provoked him. I will be more cautious in future about patting strange dogs.

Update March 2024

Three months after the events described above, I arranged to have coffee – in a different café – with the family of the dog that bit me. As I suspected, Baxter (not his real name) had been cruelly treated in early life, during that vital period from about 8-16 weeks which can make or mar a dog’s temperament. He was born overseas in a puppy mill, transported long distances, and surrendered to a rescue centre before being adopted by his present owners. Even after some years in a loving forever home, he still has some behaviour problems, and is now having professional therapy. When I saw him at a distance he regarded me suspiciously. I have let go of any fantasies about making friends with Baxter, but seeing him and his family again gave me a worthwhile sense of “closure”, and I wish them well on the long journey of rehabilitation for a dog who has been so damaged by early abuse. By the way my hand wounds have healed well, leaving just a tiny scar to remind me of what happened.