Cruella da Butt

Went home last night tired and bothered by a pain in my wrist. Was suspecting carpal tunnel syndrome and was thinking of getting my wrists x-rayed. The household help let me inside the gate; and as I turned to head for the front door, the bloody @#!$%^&*()+ Dalmatian bit me. In the butt! He didn’t attack, or growl or bark or gave fair warning. He just sort of took a bite as if my ass was some delicious steak to be pounced on. I screamed. Moses (so named from the parting of the red cheeks?), backed away when he realized that the meat was still alive and raw.

First thing that went through my mind was that I didn’t want to die just yet; that I wanted to be married to the Viking and I worried that I’ll go crazy before that happens. The second thought was the cost of anti-rabies medicines. The first one saddened me. The second one made me weep. Like a baby. My nieces and nephews didn’t know what to do with me. How could they? A 34-year old grown woman crying because of a bite-mark! The tooth went in. I saw blood. It made me real angry. And as usual, all my anger manifested itself through tears.

First instinct, I left messages with my sisters. I’m a non-medical person. I wouldn’t know the difference between my liver and my kidney so my sisters are always the answer to my medical problems. The older one said she’d call a doctor and asked me to wash the wound with soap and water. The dog had anti-rabies shots but I don’t want to risk losing my mind over a dog. I sent messages to my friends hoping to stop myself from crying and to stop worrying the kids and keep my mind off the pain in my behind. While waiting for a medical verdict, one of the female friends called to comfort me. She made butt jokes. The dog might have fancied my butt and couldn’t resist a bite, she said. I cried and laughed and cried some more; more on frustration that I can’t do anything about it rather than on pain. I assured myself I will find this funny soon.

Was finally advised to head to the hospital for anti-rabies shots. Asked the driver to pick up my sisters for rump support. It had to be a male intern who would examine my bottom to see how deep the wound is. I don’t know if hospitals do this on purpose but there has to be a conspiracy among male nurses when it comes to rump accidents. Why does it always have to be male?

Everyone seemed to find it funny that I got bitten in the ass. Everyone except me. Well, technically, it wasn’t the ass. The wound was just below my right butt cheek, more on my right thigh. But boy, did it hurt! Gritted my teeth through four injections with the promise to return for more in the next coming days and months.

Got home 2,500 pesos poorer and wondering how I am to pay electric bill. Sigh. I also have to buy one more medicine which will cost me 20,000.00 pesos. My brother called and promised to help.

Went to the office wearing the wrong uniform. My mind was too preoccupied with my underhanded injury and didn't think right. Funny, everyone I met at the office smiled to asked, “Dee, how’s your dog bite?” I wondered if there was anyone in my building who didn't know about my new dimple. I’m expecting to hear more butt and dog jokes for the rest of my life from now on.

I will have to break the bad news to the kids. I am joining ranks with Cruella De Vil. I want that Dalmatian punished for admiring my rear end and honoring it with a puncture. And I want to put it in record, that it was a damn good butt.