Morning After
The Great Office Packing Diary

About a Dog

It’s raining today, which means my leg hurts. Or aches. Or throbs. It’s hard to describe.

And no, I never broke it and I don’t have arthritis and I can’t predict the weather with it like a trick thumb or something. (Though I do have double-jointed fingers, which are really cool and also disgusting.)

The story of my leg goes back to high school (at least for this story, anyway, as I believe my leg was present some time before high school as well), when I was dating the captain of the football team at a school that was not mine.

(My school didn’t have a football team. There was soccer, but only if no one lost the school’s one ball, and we just used kindergartners for goal posts.)

The Captain of the Football Team went to a big and gorgeous high school with cheerleaders and art class and a Glee Club. I really meant to write a story about him for the Many Loves of Amalah series that I started and then abandoned when someone distracted me by jangling their shiny, pretty keys. It would make a really good story, except that I’d be super-torn about linking to the photo I found while Googlestalking him, because it is HILARIOUS. There's bad hair and a gut and everything. Google jackpot, for real. I also found his harrowing testimony about finding Jesus and repenting from a life of sin at the bitter age of five.

Let’s just say, Captain of the Football Team ended up becoming someone who would do shit like this.

(I was a little bummed that I wasn’t mentioned in his testimony as I was responsible for many, many sins.)

ANYWAY. Captain’s family big German Shepherd named Duke. Duke was big and scary. And did I mention big?

He was big.

The first time I met Duke I backed away and hid behind Captain. (Not that I was being a chicken, but this was also the first time I met Captain’s mom and she was also scary.)

Captain’s Family: Don’t be scared! Duke is a sweetie!

Amy: Am not scared! Am just…enjoying the feel of the carpet in this other room.

Captain: Duke is my boy, my good good boy, aren’t ya fella, good boy!

Captain's Mom: Duke is a baaaaaaaaby. He would never hurt a fly. He’s a big old chicken.

Amy: Okay, will tap him gently on head so y’all shut up now.

Captain's Mom: Also? I hate you.

Amy: What?

Captain's Mom: What?

Captain: Good good buddy boy!

So that’s how I met Duke, the gentle giant, the wussy wolf, the sweetest dog ever.

Liars. Dirty stinking fundamentalist Baptist liars.

After Captain and I got serious, he offered to give me one of his football jerseys so I could wear it to his games. And anywhere else that I wanted to be identified as the girlfriend of a football player. Which was everywhere.

So one night I drove to his house to pick him up and bring him back to my house, because that’s where the Approved Parental Chaperones would be for the evening. (Captain did not have a car, but sometimes got to use his parent’s minivan, but most of the time they said no so I ended up hauling his ass all over creation which pissed off my mom but didn’t bother me at the time because I was in lurvvvve.)

(*gasps for breath after that long-ass sentence*)

He came out to the car, sans the jersey he had been promising me for weeks.


Captain: D’oh! Be back in a jiffy.

(Yes, he really said stuff like jiffy.)

Amy: *sits in car*

Captain: *is taking a really long time*

Amy: *has to pee, like she always does whenever she is further than 10 feet from the nearest bathroom*

Amy: *decides to run in to pee*


Amy: *calls out* Duke is my boy, my good good boy, Amy’s good boy who she pretends to like…

Amy: *opens door*


And with that, Duke attacked me. I was wearing shorts and he went right for my thigh. He latched onto my flesh and shook his head violently, enough to knock me off my feet and onto the ground. I remember throwing my hands over my face. I remember him releasing his jaws only to bite me again as I tried to slide away.

Then the damn dog sniffed me. And remembered me. And started to cry and lick my arm.

Did you ever have a nightmare where you’re trying to scream but no noise comes out? The takedown to the floor knocked the wind out of me, and the shock and pain and bloodbloodblood left me gasping. I tried to call for Captain and couldn’t even whisper, so I ended up just curled up in a little bleeding ball in the tile foyer.

Captain came downstairs, freaked out, carried me to the kitchen and handed me a box of band-aids.


Captain: We really need to leave. My parents will kill me if they find out we were alone in the house.

Amy: *bleeds*

Captain: Why didn’t you stay in the car?

Amy: *sees pretty colors*

Captain helped me back to my car and handed me the keys. I drove back to my house while he alternated between apologies and chastising me for being so stupid.

Captain: Didn’t you hear him barking?

Amy: Dude, all dogs bark. My dog barks. My dog sounds like she’ll rip out your spinal cord as you walk up our driveway but then rolls over the minute you walk in the door.

Captain: Well, Duke is different.

Amy: Duke? The baaaaaaby? The dog I am stupid for being scared of?

Captain: Well, yeah. He’s got this…territorial thing.

Amy: *wishing she dated that nice boy at school who keeps all the prescription painkillers in his locker*

Captain: You’re kind of the third person he’s bitten. Which is why you can’t tell anyone about this.

Amy: *haaaaaaaaaate*

When I got home, Captain seriously tried to downplay the injury in front of my parents. It’s a scratch! A flesh wound! Duke was just playing! Haaaa, funny, right?

Amy’s Dad: I am going to kill you. Kill!

Amy’s Mom: See? This is why you need to date a boy who has his own damn car.

Needless to say, I ended up in the emergency room later that night. I had a lot of cuts and deep puncture wounds that wouldn’t stop bleeding and a fever and a bad case of shock. I had to give the hospital the name and address of the Captain so the Health Department could issue them a warning or something.

Amy: Oh shit, am I going to get my boyfriend’s dog put to sleep?

Social Worker: Oh no, not because of one bite. It takes three attacks before we’ll destroy an animal. This dog hasn’t bitten anyone else, right?

Amy: Oh shit.

Turns out, the first two people Duke bit never reported the attacks, since they were also Big Strapping Football Players who did not feel “pain” or “whatever.” They also may have weighed as much as Duke, which was an advantage I did not have.

So Duke was fine. Captain’s family got a call from the Health Department to verify that Duke didn’t have rabies or anything, which was like, soooooo totally my fault and dude, what a BITCH I was. Captain’s dad called my mom soon after.

Captain's Dad: So. How’s the bite?

Amy’s Mom: Well, if you mean those mosquito bites she got last weekend, those are fine. If you mean the HUGE GAPING HOLE IN HER LEG, that’s not so good.

Captain's Dad: Hmmpf. Maybe she shouldn’t have walked in the house.

Amy’s Mom: Maybe you shouldn’t have told her your dog was a big softie with teeth made of marshmallows gumdrops.

Captain's Dad: I suppose we should offer to pay for her medical bills.

Amy’s Mom: *waits for the offer*

Captain's Dad: Well?

Amy’s Mom: You know what? We’re fine. No thanks.

Captain's Dad: OK then! Goodbye! Peace in Christ!

Amy’s Mom: *censored*

Oh the plus side, I had a really bitching wound for awhile. And it was still warm out so I could wear shorts and show it off. Captain bought me things and was not a total asshat about it afterwards, although he did tell me that it "hurt him" when I told everybody we met about how his dog bit me and he "felt bad."

But now? Ew. I still have these weird scars from the bite and from where the puncture wounds didn’t close up right. My veins were damaged and I have a cluster of old-lady varicose veins right where Duke’s bottom jaw clamped on. And my whole thigh sort of throbs when it rains.

I'd take a picture of it but even I have some sense of Internet decency. Maybe tomorrow I'll show you my double-jointed fingers. Right now I'm off to Google the Pennsylvania Health Department's Animal Bite Division to see if it's too late to sue for laser surgery.



geez, that's better than a war wound any day. I'm afraid to googlestalk my old boyfriends, you're much braver than me.


Okay this totally reminded me of a highschool dog adventure I had.

Somehow I ended up involved in the drama program (as if I am NOT DRAMATIC ENOUGH) and every spring we did this lame ass thing called Faces of the Theatre where all the drama students got to be involved in little sketches to show off for their parents (except me, because I hid in the back as the makeup guru because it was much more fun to sit in the back and make fun of people). Well, the night of the opening, one of the guys was totally late, which sucked, because he was actually good and necessary to the night being somewhat interesting for the audience. So just when we were about to find his understudy he comes walking up all out of breath. We asked where he had been and he says "I was attacked by dogs! They jumped over a fence and totally bit me and I had to run and look! Dogs! My pants are ruined and my mother will kill me for that!" He was totally zoning out but said he could go on, so we cleaned him up, changed him into his costume and threw him onstage.

And then he lost his leg to gangrene from the bite (HA, not really, that was just more interesting than "He went to the doctor and got a bigger band aid", which is the truth).


type a

see? small dogs. small. they only bite your nose. and only when they're teething. i'm hoping . . .


Amy: *haaaaaaaaaate*

Ben: *Laaaaaaaaaaaaaaughs*

I'm not supposed to laugh at others misfortune. I'm laughing at that asshat Captain, really. And falling out of my chair, kinda.


my roommate got bitten on the arse by a Giant White Husky type of dog. It was horrific looking for weeks! Every color of the rainbow for sure.
I will now make "there, there" sympathy noises for you...

*there, there, dear.*


Google him again, find his address, and sic Ceiba on him.

your adoring handmaiden for ever and ever

Funny funny funny--- love your storytelling--- (sorry about being scarred for life, but isn't that better than having pristine-never-been-mauled thighs that haveno stories to share?)

Scarlett Cyn

Widdle dogs are also not safe. My daughter found out the hard way when she was about, oh, 2 not to get in the way of two Doxies doing it. Two doxies that adore and worship her still got pissed off and the boy, who was on TOP naturally, whipped his head around and bit her for interfering with his nookie...... ON. THE. FACE. Needed stitches. She's 10 now and still there's a slight scar.

She has no problems with dogs, never has, even after the biting incident and still loves those two doxies. In fact Amy? She totally wants me to go to D.C. and bring Ceiba home with me. Yeah, she is President of the Ceiba fan club. Of course, she also told me to swipe Max and stuff him in the suitcase, but I told her his widdle butt wouldn't fit, bless his heart. Heh.

Excellent story. And? I think I love your Mom too!


See? This is why I dated all those goth boys in high school, because they were covered in chrome-y goodness and were very afraid of dogs because for some reason dogs LOAVE the smell of clove cigaretts and turn on the killswitch.
Asshat Football Captains always have big butch dogs that have lots of non-gumdroppy teeth.



I wanna see the gut picture, too.

and those lions totally need Jesus.


That is a great story. Truly, extraordinarily great. I am sorry the dog bit you, and his owners sound like the supreme rulers of asshatville. That was stupid. I'm done.


I'm with Shiz, we can't have heathen lions running around our zoos.

Also, why does google stalking get you a funny story, and it gets me a restraining order?

Fraulein N

A Band-Aid? Freak. At least your parents were suitably upset about it. If you're not going to sue, you should at LEAST link to the photo of Captain. I mean, it's the decent thing to do.


hey queen of pain - eeuuuww. yuck. thank god you did not end up with a lifetime fear of dogs like i did after tina's dog (A GERMAN SHEPHARD NO LESS (did i spell that right?)chased me up a tree and i peed my pants (i was 8 OK?)and would not come down until my mom came to get me. scarred for life? you bet your ass.

sarcastic journalist

That's just funny. Plain out funny.


Got bit by a Doberman guard dog. Didn't even bleed. Ruined a shirt, but not with blood.

Got bit by a spider. Infection, necrosis, surgery, skin graft. I now have one of the un-prettiest right shins in the world. Got a great story to tell, but one ugly shin. Can't forecast the weather with it either. Wonder what you gotta do to get one of those?


Did you get Care bear band-aids?

Pssst....You know NaDruWriNi (National Drunken Writing Night) is tomorrow. Just thought you should know.

lady jane

I am loving this story, and I am not loving your stupid ex boyfriend who is so Google-worthy. So when did ya'll break up? Not immediately? That was luhrve.


Laughing so hard I'm feeling the coffee I drank an hour ago... you've got it all here... asshole parents, weinie-asshole boyfriend, misrepresented dog... seriously consider publishing this as a short story, you have REAL talent! (and I have to agree with SJ, spiders are much nastier, totally unlovable creatures)

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