How’s The Bite? Summer 2023

I was 8 and lying on a friend’s couch. That friend, from the top rope, dove and landed square on my stomach. It was like he was trying to pop me. He kinda did. That was my first hernia and surgery.

Many years later, I had another. It happened while helping a friend move. My doctor told me that most hernias don’t come from lifting heavy weight; they come from lifting somewhat heavy weight, awkwardly. I lived with the second one for a while before getting it fixed. Hernias are tough. They really mess with your physical confidence.

Using a small bait bridle is a great way to fish three large mole crabs on a 5/0 circle hook. One crab goes on the hook and the bait bridle gets the other two. The rubber tube on the bridle acts like a bait stop for the crab on the hook. Sometimes I put two rubber bands to really hold the bridle in place. The reason for this rig is to keep the hook gap and point open so you can hook fish.

I believe it’s very easy to have large crabs block the hook gap and point. If that happens, a circle hook is basically useless.

My brother and I have loose shoulders. It’s genetic and causes chronic dislocations. As a teenager, I badly dislocated my left shoulder snowboarding. After a good snow, friends and I snuck into a golf course. I’m goofy foot, so I ride right foot forward. I went off a jump, leaned back too far and fell. When I put my trailing hand down, the rest of me continued downhill. The ground punched my left arm up, like I was being forced to raise my hand in class, and that slipped the ball of my shoulder down towards my ribs. To get out of there, a buddy had to lift me over the fence we previously hopped. The ER doc put my shoulder back easily. She said that was a bad sign. I had to have surgery to fix and tighten the joint.

I played lacrosse in high school. My freshman year, I broke my right wrist while checking an opponent. A few years later, after picking up a ground ball, I got checked. And I didn’t just get checked, I got absolutely smoked and the impact snapped my left collarbone. I found out later he was an all-state football player. I was a skinny Phishhead.

In college, I tore my right ACL skateboarding. Strangely, when it happened it wasn’t super painful. I remember it feeling incredibly gross. I knew right away I did something serious, and was really scared, but it wasn’t sharp pain. The eventual surgery and rehab were the painful parts. Man, that knee looked so bad after surgery: traumatized and black and blue, front to back. Regaining strength, flexibility, and confidence took time. Before my ACL surgery, completing a full bike pedal rotation meant nothing. During rehab it was a major accomplishment.

Years later, while riding a bike on the street, I swerved around a double parked car and my bag of take-out got caught in the front spokes. This jammed the front wheel to a stop and flipped me over the handlebars. Instinctively, I went into skate slam mode, tucking to protect my bones and joints, and doing my best to avoid any violent, blunt stoppage of a body part. But I couldn’t avoid landing on my back, cracking ribs in the process. In the moment, I was in shock. I jumped up, frantically bending my knees and air paddling to make sure my shoulders were intact. They mostly were, but I felt an unnatural friction in my rib cage. I finished my trip home and ate my burrito. Once the adrenaline faded, my ribs really registered and I got to the doctor.

I had surgery on my right shoulder too. It was similar to the surgery on my left, except it wasn’t the result of an acute injury. It was done to stop chronic dislocations.

These peanuts will not be exiting the Shark River.

And in late June, I had another injury experience. My partner Aimee and I were walking our dog Moose. What I remember is commotion. We came up to a neighbor’s house and there was shouting. The shouting was layered over the sound of a dog running. That combination of rhythmic breathing and chain jingling that I’ve come to know. A dog, probably a pit mix, had broken away and was charging right at us. Aimee was familiar with the dog and tried to grab his leash, but couldn’t. I was standing there, wide-eyed with Moose, with nothing to do but hope.

Turning and running seemed ridiculous. First off, we’d get caught. Second, for all I knew, this dog was like a grizzly bear and running would make things worse. Also, as someone that keeps his dog on a leash, this is a somewhat familiar situation. Most of the time, when a free dog runs up to you, they sniff, maybe play a little, and it’s over. Granted, this pup didn’t look playful, but you simply can’t assume ill-intentions and haul off and clock any incoming dog. If that was my standard reaction, I’d have a lot more problems in my neighborhood, not less.

All these calculations happened in seconds. I stayed put and the dog paused for a nanosecond before going after Moose. It was chaos. I was physically fighting this dog, trying to land a solid knee or kick, while keeping my hands and fingers clear. The two dogs created a swirling, charged mix of teeth, muscle, hair, and spit. I was closely attached to Moose and working hard to knock the other dog away. And I didn’t care if I hurt him. He was clearly trying to hurt us. He bit my leg good. Moose dodged most of the bites, but came away scraped up.

Somehow it ended. We still don’t know how. Maybe Aimee’s screams snapped the dog out of attack mode. I walked down a side street, bleeding and in shock. Aimee talked to the owner. We didn’t call any authorities and instead went to the ER. We have a hospital within sight of our home.

The next few days were a total hassle. Before I go further, know that Aimee and I are hyper-understanding neighbors that are not litigious. From the moment this happened, we didn’t want to put unreasonable financial or emotional strain on our neighbor. At the same time, some things needed to be done for my safety and the safety of our neighbors.

All this was coughed up by a short fluke late in the summer.

Here’s the big takeaway:

If bitten by a dog, consider calling 911. Dog bites are dirty with a high risk of infection, so getting proper medical care is vital. But there are added benefits to making that call. If you do, the police will arrive and set off a sequence of events. The medical professionals will handle the physical injuries and the police will talk to the parties involved. They’ll get your stories and make sure the dogs are licensed and have the appropriate vaccinations. They’ll also report the bite to other authorities that need to know, like animal control and the health department. Looking back on all this, it’s similar to a car accident and good to have a third party handle this stuff. If I was alone, I definitely was not in a place to have a productive conversation with the owner of the dog that attacked us.

We didn’t make that initial 911 call or call the police. We went right to the ER. Part of the ER visit involved filling out an Animal Bite Report, but we were told different things regarding where the report would go and how it’s used. It all felt really confusing. Given how common animal bites are, we were surprised that a simple system isn’t in place.

We ended up having lengthy text exchanges with the dog’s owner. Over time it became clear that his dog wasn’t licensed and didn’t have proof of rabies vaccination. Rabies can kill you, so a texted “I promise” wasn’t cutting it. In the end, we reported the bite to our local police. To the owners’s credit, he contacted animal control so that they could observe his dog. After days of hassle and a significant money outlay, I was literally at the doctor, in line to get the rabies vaccine treatment, when I got the call confirming our four legged neighbor was rabies free.

Now I’ve got a good story and another scar.

But hey, it could have been worse: he could’ve latched onto my casting arm and not let go.