(March 30, 2011)
(This is my view of the same incident, plus what happened later)
When we got to the park, I let Scar out of the car. She ran straight up to this German Shepherd dog, tail wagging up a storm. The dog went into a play bow, o whatever its called, and Scar responded in the same way.
I went over to a bench in the park and plopped down on it to watch her have fun.
She rolled around and played and jumped with that dog for half an ora before Scar moved in an odd way. I watched this with interest, but before I could do much più than move, I heard her yelp loudly. I saw the dog take its jaws away from her shoulder.
Both the jaws and Scar's shoulder were slick with crimson red blood.
The first thing that went through my mind at this sight was rage, rage that Scar had gotten hurt, rage at this dog for hurting her.
I sprang to my feet, face screwed up in anger and yelling her name. I was reaching for the Walther P99 handgun in the fondina under my shoulder when Scar yelled to me.
"I've got it! I can handle it!" she called.
I stand standing with my hand on the butt of the gun.
"Are te sure te want to tango with me?" I heard her say. "You've got about... Oh... Five secondi to hit the road before I start wailing on you."
The dog just stood there and laughed. Scar gave him the five secondi that she assured and I watched with bated breath as she started absolutely destroying that dog. A frenzy of yelps, cracks, and thuds reached my ears from my position 20 yards away. After about 15 secondi of tussling, Scar spat on the ground successivo to that dog, turned around, and walked in my direction. She left that poor dog laying there with blood leaking from his jaws and from some big gashes on his belly.
I gasped. This was incredible! I was utterly shocked at her display of ferocity and rage. I had never seen Scar in this mood and I knew that I would never want her mad at me. EVER.
She came over to me and smiled. I overlooked the smile for the ugly looking wound on her right shoulder. I probed it gently, but still felt her wince.
"That's a nasty bite, Scar," I said. "What happened out there?"
She hesitated.
"He detto something mean about you. I snapped at his muzzle and he bit me," she answered.
I showed Scar my palms, which were slick with her blood. She twisted her head to look at her shoulder, but couldn't do it. She felt dizzy suddenly and I told her to lay down.
I went and got the first aid kit from the GT-R and applied a gauze square to her shoulder, holding it down with some of that medical tape.
I did my best to wipe the blood of my hands and got her into the car.
I buckled her into the imbracatura that I had bought and fired the engine.
The GT-R's tires squealed as I made for home as fast as we could. I had to drive carefully so that Scar wasn't thrown around in the car, but I still went fast.
We were almost there when I sensed a change in the car's atmosphere. I looked around, trying to figure out what it was. It was then that I finally realized what had happened: Scar had fainted. I looked back at the road, then realized what I was looking at. I whipped my head back around and saw. Scar had fainted!
In the middle of the road, I slammed hard on the brakes.
The brakes glowed red as the Nissan GT-R dipped and slowed violently. The car slammed to a halt and I completely forgot about anything but Scar. I unbuckled her imbracatura and cradled her in my arms.
"Scar!" I yelled, shaking her. "Scar, wake up. Wake up, baby!"
She didn't respond to my cajoling and pleading.
"SCAR!" I screamed senselessly. I was blind to everything but her. "Babe, please wake up! Please! Wake up, honey, wake up!"
Tears streaming down my face, I turned the car around one handed and sped down the mountain. She lay there in my arms, dead to the world.
On the drive into the veterinarians office, I blew through at least four lights, and pushed 120 mph for a large portion of the mad dash. During the drive, it had started to rain/
Then, not even a mile from the office, I saw a pileup in front of us. I hit the brakes hard and the car skidded to a halt on the slick wet tarmac with its bumper less than a foot from that of the car in front of us.
"Shit, no!" I yelled, furious. Scar was still unconscious, cradled in my arms like a baby. My baby. My tears dripped down my face and fell onto the pelliccia on Scar's belly, darkening where they hit.
I laid on the horn and started flashing the high beams. All I got for my trouble was a bunch of car horns back at me.
I knew then what I must do. Even though it was raining, I put my phone in my pocket and took the key to the Nissan.
Scar was bundled up in my giacca and I gathered her in my arms and shut the car door and locked it.
I started to run. Scar, bundled in my jacket, stirred.
Still running, I looked down at her. Her eyes bored into my own with the strength of a bolt of lightning. I didn't stop running, but I cried out with joy.
"Scar!" She blinked once. I hugged her tight and wept openly. She had seemed dead and now she was alive.
I didn't stop running until I reached the vet's office. I was thoroughly soaked, but Scar was sicuro, cassetta di sicurezza and dry inside my jacket. I squelched across the lobby to the secretary and started speaking rapidly.
"I need to see the vet. Scar, she's been bit bad and she passed out on the way here," I detto as fast as I could get the words out, first in French, then in English.
The secretary, who was named Milly, clicked her tongue and unwrapped the blanket to get a look at the wound.
"I'll take her back and Dr. Johnston will be with her as soon as he can. In the meantime, I suggest te wait in the waiting area," she said.
I staggered over to the couch, not caring that I was soaking it. I pulled the still somehow dry iPhone out of my pocket and made a phone call to someone whom I knew I could tell everything to. Jon.
"Jon, it's Colby," I detto hurriedly into the phone.
"Hey, bro, what's going on? And why do te sound out of breath and freaked out?"
"Scar got hurt."
"She did what?!"
"She was playing with this dog and... I don't know, I didn't see, but she got a huge bite on her shoulder from the dog. It was bleeding really bad and we were almost back to my house when she passed out!" All of this was detto in a single breath.
"Holy shit, dude, is she okay?" Jon asked worriedly.
"She's back there with the doctor right now," I said.
"Alright. te better keep me updated," Jon said.
I swore that I would and disconnected the call.
All I could do now was wait.
(This is my view of the same incident, plus what happened later)
When we got to the park, I let Scar out of the car. She ran straight up to this German Shepherd dog, tail wagging up a storm. The dog went into a play bow, o whatever its called, and Scar responded in the same way.
I went over to a bench in the park and plopped down on it to watch her have fun.
She rolled around and played and jumped with that dog for half an ora before Scar moved in an odd way. I watched this with interest, but before I could do much più than move, I heard her yelp loudly. I saw the dog take its jaws away from her shoulder.
Both the jaws and Scar's shoulder were slick with crimson red blood.
The first thing that went through my mind at this sight was rage, rage that Scar had gotten hurt, rage at this dog for hurting her.
I sprang to my feet, face screwed up in anger and yelling her name. I was reaching for the Walther P99 handgun in the fondina under my shoulder when Scar yelled to me.
"I've got it! I can handle it!" she called.
I stand standing with my hand on the butt of the gun.
"Are te sure te want to tango with me?" I heard her say. "You've got about... Oh... Five secondi to hit the road before I start wailing on you."
The dog just stood there and laughed. Scar gave him the five secondi that she assured and I watched with bated breath as she started absolutely destroying that dog. A frenzy of yelps, cracks, and thuds reached my ears from my position 20 yards away. After about 15 secondi of tussling, Scar spat on the ground successivo to that dog, turned around, and walked in my direction. She left that poor dog laying there with blood leaking from his jaws and from some big gashes on his belly.
I gasped. This was incredible! I was utterly shocked at her display of ferocity and rage. I had never seen Scar in this mood and I knew that I would never want her mad at me. EVER.
She came over to me and smiled. I overlooked the smile for the ugly looking wound on her right shoulder. I probed it gently, but still felt her wince.
"That's a nasty bite, Scar," I said. "What happened out there?"
She hesitated.
"He detto something mean about you. I snapped at his muzzle and he bit me," she answered.
I showed Scar my palms, which were slick with her blood. She twisted her head to look at her shoulder, but couldn't do it. She felt dizzy suddenly and I told her to lay down.
I went and got the first aid kit from the GT-R and applied a gauze square to her shoulder, holding it down with some of that medical tape.
I did my best to wipe the blood of my hands and got her into the car.
I buckled her into the imbracatura that I had bought and fired the engine.
The GT-R's tires squealed as I made for home as fast as we could. I had to drive carefully so that Scar wasn't thrown around in the car, but I still went fast.
We were almost there when I sensed a change in the car's atmosphere. I looked around, trying to figure out what it was. It was then that I finally realized what had happened: Scar had fainted. I looked back at the road, then realized what I was looking at. I whipped my head back around and saw. Scar had fainted!
In the middle of the road, I slammed hard on the brakes.
The brakes glowed red as the Nissan GT-R dipped and slowed violently. The car slammed to a halt and I completely forgot about anything but Scar. I unbuckled her imbracatura and cradled her in my arms.
"Scar!" I yelled, shaking her. "Scar, wake up. Wake up, baby!"
She didn't respond to my cajoling and pleading.
"SCAR!" I screamed senselessly. I was blind to everything but her. "Babe, please wake up! Please! Wake up, honey, wake up!"
Tears streaming down my face, I turned the car around one handed and sped down the mountain. She lay there in my arms, dead to the world.
On the drive into the veterinarians office, I blew through at least four lights, and pushed 120 mph for a large portion of the mad dash. During the drive, it had started to rain/
Then, not even a mile from the office, I saw a pileup in front of us. I hit the brakes hard and the car skidded to a halt on the slick wet tarmac with its bumper less than a foot from that of the car in front of us.
"Shit, no!" I yelled, furious. Scar was still unconscious, cradled in my arms like a baby. My baby. My tears dripped down my face and fell onto the pelliccia on Scar's belly, darkening where they hit.
I laid on the horn and started flashing the high beams. All I got for my trouble was a bunch of car horns back at me.
I knew then what I must do. Even though it was raining, I put my phone in my pocket and took the key to the Nissan.
Scar was bundled up in my giacca and I gathered her in my arms and shut the car door and locked it.
I started to run. Scar, bundled in my jacket, stirred.
Still running, I looked down at her. Her eyes bored into my own with the strength of a bolt of lightning. I didn't stop running, but I cried out with joy.
"Scar!" She blinked once. I hugged her tight and wept openly. She had seemed dead and now she was alive.
I didn't stop running until I reached the vet's office. I was thoroughly soaked, but Scar was sicuro, cassetta di sicurezza and dry inside my jacket. I squelched across the lobby to the secretary and started speaking rapidly.
"I need to see the vet. Scar, she's been bit bad and she passed out on the way here," I detto as fast as I could get the words out, first in French, then in English.
The secretary, who was named Milly, clicked her tongue and unwrapped the blanket to get a look at the wound.
"I'll take her back and Dr. Johnston will be with her as soon as he can. In the meantime, I suggest te wait in the waiting area," she said.
I staggered over to the couch, not caring that I was soaking it. I pulled the still somehow dry iPhone out of my pocket and made a phone call to someone whom I knew I could tell everything to. Jon.
"Jon, it's Colby," I detto hurriedly into the phone.
"Hey, bro, what's going on? And why do te sound out of breath and freaked out?"
"Scar got hurt."
"She did what?!"
"She was playing with this dog and... I don't know, I didn't see, but she got a huge bite on her shoulder from the dog. It was bleeding really bad and we were almost back to my house when she passed out!" All of this was detto in a single breath.
"Holy shit, dude, is she okay?" Jon asked worriedly.
"She's back there with the doctor right now," I said.
"Alright. te better keep me updated," Jon said.
I swore that I would and disconnected the call.
All I could do now was wait.
