Tags
#airport, #CelebrityInn, #dogbite, #LesterBPearson, #police, #rabies, #soreass, #ThreeStooges, #whyme, dog
Yes, indeed, another dog story….
In the early 90’s, after a long shift at the airport, my two buddies and I decided to go for a well-deserved drink at the local watering hole – The Celebrity Inn on Airport Road. After a few pints, Dean, Tony and I headed out to the parking lot where we noticed a dog (German Shepherd-looking) wandering around. I saw it had a collar and, as Airport Road is a busy street, I worried about it getting hit by a car.
I approached the dog and grabbed it by the collar. I began stroking it very calmly while it struggled to pull away and visions of my past dog experiences went through my head. All of a sudden the bloody thing bit my hand!
In shock, I jumped up, and now looking like the Three Stooges, Dean, Tony and I bumped into each other and began running to the door of the hotel while the dog ran after us. Tony pulled the door open and ran inside, followed by Dean…..just as I was about to enter the door the bloody dog bit me on the ass! Dean and Tony pulled me in and slammed the door shut as “Cujo” slammed against the glass.
Unknown to me, the front desk clerk had called the police to report a “wild animal” in the parking lot. While I was in the washroom cleaning the blood from my hand, Dean noticed the dog heading to the street and hopped in his car, certain he was saving the dog from instant death. He slowly drove alongside it with his flashers on to block it from running out into the street – it was like he was a shepherd guiding the flock, but he did eventually lead the dog back to the parking lot to where the owner had now showed up.
Although the owner swore the dog had all his shots, the police took a statement asking me what happened. I proceeded to tell her I was bit on the hand and showed her the evidence, leaving it at that. Tony immediately leaned over and whispered to me “don’t forget your ass”. “Is there something else?” the police officer asked. I sheepishly replied “Oh yeah, he bit on my ass too”. Did I have to show her? Drop my pants in the parking lot? Thankfully she said the hand evidence was enough. Since I didn’t want to press charges, we went back in to the hotel for another pint to calm our nerves, although this time I stood at the bar instead of sitting! We all had a good laugh at my ass being bit and marveled that my pants hadn’t been torn.
I thought the whole ordeal was in the past, when suddenly two months later, while coincidentally Dean was at my place, the phone rang. It was the police informing me that the dog had been in quarantine for the past couple of months, and I should be happy to know it didn’t have rabies! WTF?? I’d been walking around for two months not knowing there was a chance I could start foaming at the mouth at any time! When I hung up the phone I turned to Dean and, in my best Linda Blair Exorcist impression, I said “I know you stupid idiots!”
Needless to say, the airport is a small community and word got around fast that I’d been bitten on the ass. As I went in for my next shift, one by one throughout the day, each agent would grab their ass, make a face and say “Woof! Woof!” Twenty years later and when I run into one of the older agents, they still do it!