Running From Dogs

On Friday morning my beloved spouse came home from his run looking for Polysporin and Band-aids.  Curious, I asked why on earth he needed them, assuming that he had a blister or some such minor injury.  Nope.  He was sporting a pair of puncture wounds on the back of his calf courtesy of a nasty little yapper up the road.

"Can I put some Poly and a band aid on it?" he pleaded with hope all over his face.

"I am pretty sure that a dog bite requires actual medical intervention.  Those look pretty deep, sweetie.  You better go to the Clinic."

An  hour later he returned with a lovely stitch in one puncture and bad news.

"They are out of  tetanus shots and I have to go into town for a tetanus shot between now and Sunday."

Alrighty then.  There is no walk-in clinic in Kenora.  If you don't have a doctor of your own the Emergency waiting room becomes a place described in Dr. Seuss's The Places You'll Go.  Since the Emergency room is busy on weekends, we decided that getting in on Friday morning was likely to be when the lines are the shortest.  Ah, sweet naivete.  Sprouts, Kindles and iPads packed up (essential to any trip when a waiting room is involved) and we hit the road.

We parked the car and tromped in.  LK registered, got a green arm band (meaning he was low priority) and was told the wait was four hours long.  So, the Sprouts and I went off to pick up a lunch for him and left him to his waiting.  After dropping off his lunch we wandered into to town to while away the hours.

We took a pizza picnic to the park.  We played on the play structure.  We waded at the beach.  We walked up to DQ for ice cream.  We did the school clothes shopping for fall jackets and pants that fit little people who seem to grow several inches each summer.  We went for a long walk along the water.  Then another one.  We started thinking about what to do for supper.

Five hours later LK had the 30 second shot to protect him from tetanus.  He also had a prescription for antibiotics that have proven to be much more miserable than the bite itself. So off to the pharmacy for another hour of waiting.

Now most of the rez dogs are very nice.  In fact we have made running buddies with some, enjoy the occasional visits of others to us at home, and are sorely tempted to adopt one each time students bring an adorable puppy to school.  But there are just a few that are a wee bit feral and scare the living daylights out of me.

I have run twice since Friday.  The first time I forced myself to do my normal route right by those dogs.  But I made sure to be well armed with rocks in both fists, just in case.  The second time it took an hour to screw up my courage to go.  Then I just drove the car off reserve and ran on the road to town.  It was a lovely run with no concerns about dogs.  And the bears, they just look at me and then trudge off on their berry hunting.