The Dopers Dog Bite Thread

In My Humble Opinion
1

Have YOU ever bitten a dog?

Or, rather, have you ever owned a dog that bit someone?

Have you ever been bitten by a dog?

If so, what would you/did you do about it? (Sue the owner, etc.) Was it a nice dog who just “lunged at you”? Or was it a dog with a history of bad temper/biting?

I’ve just wondered. My grandparents/cousin have a little Yorkie who has bitten people 2x (once one of his owners and once a stranger) with little provocation. He’s bad with strangers but friendly with people he knows. So what about you guys and your experiences?

2

I’m a veterinary nurse. Can you guess if I have ever been bitten or not?

I just got bit the other night, as a matter of fact, while doing x-rays on a dog. The bite was totally unexpected. My hand is black and blue and swollen, but no major damage.
Michi

3

Yuck; that’s gotta hurt. What breed of dog…how big, that is?

4

My family had a dog named Piper. He was half German Shepherd and half Golden Retriever. He was not well trained and bit several people. My parents were too lax in disciplining him, so he just kept doing it. I personally have several scars from bites from him. Finally he bit a neighbor and really injured him. Somewtime after I moved out of the house my father took him to the animal shelter and I assume he was then destroyed. I cared about him, but I was angry at my parents for not having him trained. I feel that what the dog did was their fault more than his.

5

When I was young there was a cul de sac in my neighbourhood with a big agree Labrador(of all breds) living on it. It would run barking at anyone who crossed the end of his road.

We kids used to run by it, just in case. One day I forgot to run and the dog came at me. I just froze with fear and the dog jumped at me and pinned me to a wall. I stood there with the dog holding my neck between his jaws for about 1-3 mins. (it seemed like forever). While it never broke my skin I can still remember the hot smelly breath on my neck. Then a adult came along and let a roar at it and sent it on its way with a kick in the arse. I was about 10 when this happened.

My mother on seeing me in such a state of distress brought me around to the house(I wouldn’t leave the car even though I couldn’t see the dog) and lost it with the neighbour. She threatened the neighbour with the police etc.

The neighbour apologised and promised to look after the dog in the future. Which she did to a degree but every now and then the dog did cause trouble. It was put down about a year later for biting a kid.

Fron that moment to this I’ve always had a fear of dogs. I will find new routes of walking if I know there is a dog on the way. I freeze even if I hear a bark. I suppose this is a phobia and it sucks.

6

I’ve been bitten by a dog twice. I view both times as being my own fault. (young and stupid)

#1 I owned a huge dog that was agressive towards other male dogs. He had some type of bulldog pinned and I felt the need to “break the fight up”. As I grabbed my dog around the neck to pull him off, the bulldog went for his neck. Made a mess of my hand. No stitches, but the hospital speant a lot of time cleaning the wounds up.

#2 My big brute (same dog) tried to kill some kind of small terrier. I didn’t want to get involved, but he really was trying to kill the poor thing. While beating by dog off and trying to get the terrier out of his mouth, the terrier clamped down on my thumb. No stiches that time either, but he did manage to bite through my thumbnail. Painful!
Since both bites were my own fault (and my dog’s), my folks were more concerned about us getting sued. Luckily, everything was made “nice” with the neighbours. That is, until my dog did manage to kill another dog for coming in our yard. Bite the little guy in half. Poor Tigger was taken away from us then. I really do miss that dog, even though he was a brute around other dogs. (not to mention, a lawsuit waiting to happen)

7

I posted this somewhere else - I think under a thread about pain, fright, and how it isn’t a crime for a grown man to shit in his own pants.

I was attached and bitten several times by a rabid dog. I’ve never been so petrified in my entire life. If you can avoid having to go throught this I would encourage you to do so.

8

I found that an E-tool does wonders on rabid dogs.

9

I do believe that some of the rabies virus remained in my system and rendered me unable to spell.

That should be “attacked,” of course. Being “attached” to a rabid dog would suck in the worst kind of way.

10

The Better Half has been a letter carrier for the last 18 years, and he is also the Workman’s Comp representative for the local union branch. He says it is a True Fact, not a factoid, that the #1 cause of work-related injuries for letter carriers is “dog bite”. (#2 is back injuries from lifting bags of mail.)

He has plenty of “close call” war stories to tell. The Rottweiler staring through the flimsy screen door while the owner signs for a certified letter (“oh, he won’t bite”–then it’s BAM! and suddenly the owner needs a new screen door), the loose dog on the block who chases everybody (letter carriers say it isn’t fair that UPS and FedEx guys get to park directly in front of the house, making a shorter distance if they have to run for it–the mailman has to sprint for his truck all the way down at the corner), etc.

However, the only time he was ever actually bitten by an animal on the job, which required the taking of photographs and the filling out of official forms, it was a cat who administered the whupping. It lived underneath a spruce tree in a front yard and used to leap out and attack people, and it ran out one hot summer’s day and attacked the Better Half’s official U.S. Postal Service shorts-clad lower leg, God knows why.

Also see James Thurber’s “The Dog Who Bit People”, from My Life and Hard Times.

11

I’ve read that dogs attack mailmen because they feel threatened. A guy (okay or a woman) comes to their house every day and does something strange. (Most dogs don’t “get” the concept of the mail service.) UPS people who don’t come as often, aren’t bitten usually, but mailmen pose a threat each day…

12

Yes, yes (me), yes (mine). I told you he was evil.

13

My best friend adopted a little black dog of no determinate breed from the animal shelter. The dog had apparently been abused, and no amount of love would tame him.

I was over at her house one day, lounging and making smart-ass remarks about the show we were watching on TV. April was sitting on the sofa, and she had a drink sitting on the floor in front of her. The dog lay on the floor in front of the sofa. She leaned over to get the drink, and apparently spooked the dog. He lept up, a quick black flash, and bit down on her breast.

April screamed in pain and fright, and swatted at the dog to knock him off. This was apparently one of the worst decisions ever made since Napoleon went to the Battle of Waterloo, because it only made him clamp down harder. Her mother rushed into the room to see what was the matter, and saw her daughter frantically whapping a dog that was securely latched onto, and swinging from her breast. She rushed over, and grabbed the back legs of the dog and pulled.

April bellowed! The dog growled, and clamped down like a bulldog. April started shaking her chest like an exotic dancer, the dog swinging and bouncing against her belly. April’s mother was shouting for her to “Hold still! Hold still!” and grabbing for the dog’s legs. April stopped trying to shake him off, and instead started wailing, and whapping at his head again. April’s sister rushed in, and stood stock still in the middle of the room, jaw gaping. In her hand, she had a glass of milk. She looked down at her hand, and almost automatically, threw the milk on the dog, hoping the shock would make him detach. She missed the dog entirely, soaking April, and her mother, who was still pulling at the dog’s legs. April screeched every time her mother tugged, milk and tears dripping down her cheeks.

April’s sister grabbed a wooden ruler, hoping to PRY the dog’s jaws away from April’s breast. When this didn’t work, she started rapping him on the head, shouting “Let 'er go! Let 'er go!”

Suddenly, April’s sister had an idea. She dropped the ruler, and went into the kitchen. She picked up the bag of dog food, shook it engergetically, and cried, “Dinner, doggie! Dinner!” He immediately loosed his grip on the boob, and trotted into the kitchen, stumpy tail wagging.

April, to this day, has four half-inch scars on her breast where the dog’s canines sank in.

14

I have, indeed, bitten a dog. It was on a dare. I do lots of stupid things on dares.

My mom’s pugs have bitten me, and how! They might not have much of a face, but they can bite.

15

Lissa…dear lord. After having read that, I’m now clutching at my breats. Ugh. What did they do with the dog? I mean, I’m dog lover and all but if i ever owned a dog that did that to me…yech…:(:(:frowning:

Gunslinger: You put up with the evil hound doing that to you?! (Okay i know it isn’t a hound but i can’t spell dashud…you know.)

16

I was walking my lovely, sensitive Border Collie down a city street when some kind of pit bull came boiling out of nowhere and chomped down on her hindquarters. My dog began to yelp in pain and terror. Before I could think to do anything (I was scared, too) the attacking dog’s owner immediately came out and, apologizing profusely, pried his horrible little monster off my dog and carted it away.

He was very sorry. He gave me his card and promised that he would keep his dog tied up from then on. I thought I should call the cops and have them destroy his dog, but … I didn’t have the heart. I just wanted to get away from there.

Fortunately, my dog wasn’t really hurt – the little bastard mostly had a big old mouthful of fur. If she had been harmed, he would have been toast. :mad:

It was a very upsetting experience.

17

My grandparents had a vile little poodle named Brandy who was a champion biter. However, the entire house revolved around the dog, so clearly Brandy was in the right and we, the terrified grandchildren, were in the wrong. The children were often sent to “play” (read: sit in the other room, having anxiety attacks) while the grown-ups were talking, and Brandy would sit in the doorway, drooling and growling menacingly. Every so often he would lunge at one of the children, biting and yipping like a mad man, at which time we were admonished to “stop teasing the dog.” I love animals but no one in the younger generation was sorry to see Brandy go to the Happy Hunting Ground in the sky (where he is probably employed by Whoever Is In Charge to keep the pagan babies in line or something equally sinister). To this day, when I hear the phrase “unleash the hounds of war” I think of a pack of demented poodles.

18

I’ve actually been bitten twice,broke the skin.
Once when I was a kid. Don’t remember much about it.
The second time I was checking that everyone in a trailer park had good TV reception. The dog came out barking and I just ignored it as I normally did. As I approached it I offered the back of my hand,as I normally did, for it to smell.The little F***er bit me.I actually raised the dog off the ground with my still being bit hand,trying to get it loose.I got loose and backed up and told the dogs kid to get his mom or dad. The dogs owner came out and asked what I wanted. I told him I was bitten by his dog and he asked me what I did.I told him what I was doing and his was my last trailer to check.
To make a long story short the owner tried to let on that it was my fault.
When I told the trailer park owner about it I thought he was going to kill the dog. I’m sure he had words with the dogs owner.
Then there is the time I was repairing a TV and the Yorki grabbed my pant leg. I drug the little dog all the way down the basement steps except for the last three.Thats when I shook my leg and the poor little thing hit the wall.

19

They kept the little bastard. Thought that eventually gentle treatment and love would make him into a nice dog.

He bit everyone. He bit the mailman, the UPS guy, the pizza dude, a Jehovah’s Witness, and every friend that April, her mother, her father, her brother and her sister had. He “treed” our friend Megan, who lept up on a chair to avoid the bites. She stood there on the chair, screeching, on one leg like a flamingo, while the dog lept to a height twice that of his body to snip at her legs. He attached himself to the butt of the church pastor who was making his visits to the congregation’s homes. I’ve never heard a man of God use such language in my life as he did, dancing around the living room with a small, Toto like dog dangling from his backside.

He bit ME on the hamstring, and I hopped around on one leg, trying to shake him off until I lost my balance and fell, accidently hurling him into the wall. He left me alone after that.

He would act like he was going to be a Nice Dog, wagging his tail and behaving nicely as guests came in, and everyone would think that all was calm. Then, something they would do, a sudden movement, or a loud laugh would set him off.

The dog lived on in that manner for about five years, finally expiring from an intestinal ailment, much to the secret relief of everyone that visited the family on a regular basis.

20

They kept the little bastard. Thought that eventually gentle treatment and love would make him into a nice dog.

He bit everyone. He bit the mailman, the UPS guy, the pizza dude, a Jehovah’s Witness, and every friend that April, her mother, her father, her brother and her sister had. He “treed” our friend Megan, who lept up on a chair to avoid the bites. She stood there on the chair, screeching, on one leg like a flamingo, while the dog lept to a height twice that of his body to snip at her legs. He attached himself to the butt of the church pastor who was making his visits to the congregation’s homes. I’ve never heard a man of God use such language in my life as he did, dancing around the living room with a small, Toto like dog dangling from his backside.

He bit ME on the hamstring, and I hopped around on one leg, trying to shake him off until I lost my balance and fell, accidently hurling him into the wall. He left me alone after that.

He would act like he was going to be a Nice Dog, wagging his tail and behaving nicely as guests came in, and everyone would think that all was calm. Then, something they would do, a sudden movement, or a loud laugh would set him off.

The dog lived on in that manner for about five years, finally expiring from an intestinal ailment, much to the secret relief of everyone that visited the family on a regular basis.