Getting the Bite

Nothing gets the heart pumping and the system on edge like the sight of a dog that suddenly appears out of nowhere and can be seen racing toward you with obvious malicious intent.  With all that adrenalin coursing through one’s veins the head may know that it’s best to stand one’s ground but the body is rigged for flight.  My first such encounter was with a black Lab by the name of Nipper whose family, ironically enough, lived next door to a future supreme court justice.  I was new to the game and got my first dog bite that day; I was “nipped” in the left hamstring. 

 

With its overwhelming experience with dog encounters Canada Post has experimented with many devices for the prevention of serious injury from dogs.  Everyone has heard of mace, we don’t carry it anymore.  Then there was the device that emitted an intense high-pitched noise and worked, sometimes—if the battery hadn’t run out, if children weren’t present, and if the dog wasn’t too excited to pay attention to the pain in its ears.  The things were $100 each 20 years ago.  We’ve used pepper spray in various containers and formulations.  Presently Canada Post has a special dispensation from the justice department to allow its use by delivery employees. 

 

In my own personal experience I’ve found it wiser to use my abilities as the singing mailman to ensure I got advance warning of a dog at large—if you don’t trust it don’t go near it and if it acts as if it owns an entire crescent so be it—just endorse the mail with the reason for non-delivery and continue on to safer fields.  That was until somehow I got charged by three dogs within one half hour.  The one time I did use pepper spray I saw the dog on the customer’s lawn and sensed trouble.  When it charged I was across the street as far as I could get from its property.  I had the aerosol already cocked and aimed hitting eyes and nose as soon as it got within range—it worked! 

 

Aside from owners who are just plain careless and irresponsible the usual reason for dog encounters are doors left improperly secured; gates left open; and children.  No child accustomed to pulling Fido’s tail and ears or dressing him up in doll’s clothes seems to be able to conceive that their beloved pet could be a hazard to someone else.  When asked to put the dog in the house most will just stare at you dumbly or utter some haughty insult—this is Oakville after all.  Some will even let the thing out on purpose.  That’s when the obvious defence is a well-placed mailbag full of mail.  After that initial charge most dogs will back off.  I’ve delivered mail with teeth marks already in place on more than one occasion. 

 

Dog bites are serious business, especially today with the prevalence of rabies among the local raccoon population, and the bitten had better be able to identify the dog and its owner or rabies shots are now required treatment as a precaution for a disease that is almost always fatal.  The bite may do no more that graze the skin but it must be reported.  What follows is a daunting mass of paperwork, much of it now performed online; a trip to the doctor; tetanus shot; a course of antibiotic at the doctor’s discretion; and, up to six months later follow up documentation from the Compensation Board.  How the weather that day and the day before is relevant has always escaped me.  In response to a question about the lingering effects of the injury I once wrote: “Writer’s cramp from the interminable paperwork.”  However tedious all this may seem proper treatment is essential.  One letter carrier got infection in his leg, the entire limb turned black, and he was off work six months.