Scars... I haz 'em. A friend of mine posted yesterday about an ungraceful thing she'd done that ended up with an ouchie. It got me to thinking about all of my ouchies over the years and then all the scars I have. Like I said in her comments, my life has been a journey of ouchies and my body is the map. I can pinpoint where most of the scars came from - starting with the one on the back of my neck from when I was small. Spook the cat got me when I tried to carry him. Or maybe the two on my chin were first. Those came from a poodle bite when I was like 4. I actually have a dent in my jawbone from one of those. :shrug: My mother is amazed the experience didn't make me fear dogs, but nope. (I still don't like poodles of a certain size, though.)
I've been bit by too many animals. The poodle started it. Cats, of course. Snakes - of the garter variety. I have a scar on my hand from Zeus the German Shepherd, who was a goofy, sweet dog - unless he was chained up and then he was on guard duty. I didn't see the chain attached, so I tried to pet him and he engulfed my hand. Luckily, only one tooth got me. I also had a Doberman nip me in the face, but he didn't break the skin, thank goodness. I got bit by a horse once. JR was as dumb as a stump. One day I was cleaning his stall while he was still in it - don't ask why, I don't remember - and he bit the back of my leg. Thank goodness for denim or he would've taken a chunk out. Left a baseball-sized bruise instead. I think he's the only living thing I've ever punched. He bit me, and I turned around and nailed him in the neck. He never bit me again. Of course, I was never stupid enough to be alone in a stall with him again either.
Sometimes, I don't know when to keep my thoughts to myself. It's usually when I think I'm helping, so it's not with evil intent, but the results are the same. I'm sorry. A while back, I had a friend who spent a lot of time talking about what seemed to me to be her mentally/emotionally abusive relationship with her husband. One day, I suggested she find a way to leave him. Never heard from her again. She's still out there, but I'm blocked. Maybe she just wanted someone to vent to and not advice. I'm bad at figuring that stuff out.
And people wonder why I'm a hermit.
Relationship advice is always tricky. And after awhile, biting one's tongue gets to be a bloody prospect. I'd say you're better off without that friends.
ReplyDeleteAh, the ouchies. I knew the ER personnel on all three shifts in three different hospitals in three different towns in two different states on a first name basis before I was 7. 'Nuff said. LOL
The only time I've been bitten by a dog was when I broke up a fight between my Siberian Huskey (who carried a wolf gene) and my daughter's Great Pyrenees (said breed being bred to protect herds from...wolves. Duh! Yeah, we were idiots.) Anyway, as soon as Micco hooked my arm with a canine, he immediately broke off, backed away and looked so terribly sorry I felt bad for him. Max also looked worried and backed away. I'd like to say they signed a non-agression pact after that but detente only lasted about 72 hours. And yeah, I was the kid who walked up to the stray dogs in front of the grocery store and loved on them. Go figure.
I've been stepped on, kicked, and thrown by various horses. The only one who bit me was munchy on my hair and he nipped my ear. Hurt like holy hell but no lasting damage.
Animals are funny. Thanks for the skip down memory lane. LOL
In other news, life is. I need more coffee. I have to make an extra Wallyworld run this week. Whatever. LOL
This is my that. Or that's my this. Again, whatever. I nee4d more coffee STAT. Then off to appear human in public. Golly, my favorite thing. 🙄 Hermits Anonomous Unite!
Hermits unite!
ReplyDelete99% of my ouchies I do to myself. One official klutz, here.
I was nipped on the butt by a horse. Thank goodness for denim! I've been nipped by dogs, but never truly hurt. I guess I was always cautious around them. LOTS of cat scratches, but I only remember being bit once -- by Mom's newly-rescued, declawed, very cranky cat. She bit Mom several times, and Mom would chase her around the house with a slipper while dripping blood all over the floor. They eventually came to an understanding, but now that the cat is dead, Mom doesn't want another one. She'd rather put up with the scorpions. LOL!