By A.F. James MacArthur Ph.A.L.
This Time They Got Me
Several weeks ago without warning or provocation I was attacked and wounded by a vicious dog. As I performed yard work in the rear courtyard of the bunker compound, a large white dog suddenly appeared. Before I could respond he leaped through the air and latched onto my arm. The picture above are the results.
One fang punctured deep into my arm penetrating the muscle, resulting in profuse bleeding. I spent several hours in a local Emergency room.
Regular readers of the Baltimore Spectator may recall it was back in March a different dog made an unsuccessful attempt on me (see, Call Of The Dogs). The Baltimore Spectator is aware there are many who would like this voice silenced, but resorting to four legged attackers seems quite unorthodox.
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As an officer, A.F. James MacArthur dealt with vicious dogs throughout his public safety career. From kicking in doors with the fugitive, vice and narcotic squads, to dealing with crazy tenants as a landlord. MacArthur once worked with a K9 partner as part of a search team and is an avid animal lover. Having been bitten a few times, and having to resort to using lethal force in a few instances, this event will probably re-open a few old wounds so to speak.
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