A walk on the beach with puppy attack
I decided to make another attempt to walk my puppy Blaze on the beach, in hopes that, at 4 months now, he was old enough not to eat TOO much stuff as we walked. Wrong! We walked about 50 feet and my back started hurting from the number of times I had to bend down and tell him “drop it”, or to pull something out of his mouth when he didn’t drop it. Every variety of seaweed, sticks, pinecones, shells, and things unidentified. Even sand. Yes, when there’s nothing else around, just eat the sand.
I looked around for the cleanest spot in the dry sand and decided to just sit and let him explore there where he couldn’t get into too much trouble. Having him on a long lead, about 20 ft long. I discovered pretty quickly that he loves to dig, and he dug himself a hole deep enough that he could bury his head inside. Then he got so excited he got the zoomies and started running in circles as fast as he could. I must say that I did pretty good turning the leash – and myself – so that he could run around me in circles. But every so often he would get the leash tangled in his legs. One of the times I tried to fix it, he accidentally bit me in the hand and with his sharp puppy teeth, I started to bleed.
Puppy biting is the worst.
I had a tissue in my pocket, so I used it to put pressure on the cut. But having to use my right hand to hold the tissue on top of my left hand occupied both hands and resulted in me being unable to manage the leash with an excited puppy on the other end. So, we headed back in. When I got off the sand, I sat on one of the benches on our lawn so that I could apply pressure on the tissue and hopefully stop the bleeding. That way, we could stay outside. Otherwise, I’d have to go in to get a band-aid.
Just then, my neighbor and his 3-year-old granddaughter Eva came along.
Eva was all excited as she cried out, “I brought Blaze a medal!” She was holding a replica of an Olympic Gold Medal on a red, white and blue necklace even. My neighbor told me they were watching us from their balcony and Eva just had to come down and give him the medal. But Blaze was already excited from the beach and now seeing the little girl sent his excitement level into outer space. She tried to put it on him but he was so overstimulated he would not stop running. I was afraid he would hurt her by wrapping the leash around her and tripping her or even worse, getting her with his puppy teeth and making her bleed. So I had to take the pressure off my hand and use both hands to control the puppy. I didn’t want to tell my neighbor that I was cut, but removing the tissue caused the blood to start flowing down my hand and he noticed. He told his granddaughter we all had to go in because I needed to get a band-aid.
We came inside and got on the elevator along with another neighbor of mine. Eva and her grandfather got off on the 4th floor. I was back to trying to hold the tissue on my hand when I realized that I didn’t have the medal that Eva gave the puppy. Since she couldn’t get it on him, I planned to take a picture later for her. I was searching through my pockets when the elevator stopped on the 8th floor, my floor. I was busy looking for the medal. Hold the tissue on the cut, then remove it to check this pocket…hold the tissue again, check that pocket. I took so long, the doors closed, and the elevator continued up to the 12th floor with me still on it.
After my other neighbor got off on 12, I made sure to hit 8 so I wouldn’t miss my floor again. But then the elevator stopped at 11. The cleaning lady, with her giant cart of cleaning supplies, was getting on! I have no luck, I thought. At this point, the tissue was getting soaked with blood and all I wanted was a band aid! I manipulated the puppy to get out of the way of the cart, the cleaning person gets on, and I go back to wiping the blood off my hand. Then cleaning lady says, “Can you push 10 for me? I need to stop on 10”. Of course, it figures!
Finally,
I get to the 8th floor, and I run off the elevator before anything else can stop me. Five feet from my door in the hallway, the puppy stops and won’t move. I turn around and I see why. He’s squatting, getting ready to poop! I say to him, oh, no, you can’t! We’re 5 feet away! I need a band-aid asap and you cannot poop and pee out here!
I found my key as fast as I could, unlocked the door, and pulled him inside. Just inside my door, he started dropping the poop on the floor. I finally got a lucky break – yes, that’s what I consider luck – that it was inside and not in the hallway. I led him over to his pee pads, so he’d be sure to pee on them and not the floor. We just made it.
And then finally…finally…I went to the bathroom cabinet and got myself a band-aid! After I completed my emergency treatment, I went back outside (minus dog), looking for the medal that Eva gave Blaze. I found it in the walkway outside and I was able to put it on him and take a picture to send to her.
Tomorrow is supposed to be another warm day, and I just can’t wait to take another relaxing walk on the beach with my pup!
But this time I think I’ll carry a band-aid in my pocket. Read another blogpost about aggressive puppy biting.
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