July 31st, 2012 from Harlequin Teen
I am thrilled to have Katie McGarry on the blog talking about a personal experience that . Welcome, Katie:
When I was in second grade, a friend of mine invited me to play at her house. After a few minutes of playing school, she asked if I would like to see her dog. Being a dog lover, my answer, of course, was yes.
My memory begins to get fuzzy after that and no, it’s not because I’m looking back at the event from my thirties. I repressed the memory of being attacked by her dog.
I had a couple of vague, hazy memories from after the attack: my sister staring at me as I rested on the couch in our living room, my parents calling the doctor, me lying on the hospital bed. My first clear memories are of standing in my room, lifting my dress and staring at the bandage on my right side. My mom told me I had been bitten by a dog, but I didn’t remember it.
How can I even begin to describe what it’s like? I’d go to school and this was the scene that played out:
A group of kids gathered around me as I took off my winter coat.
Kids: You were bit by a dog.
My memory begins to get fuzzy after that and no, it’s not because I’m looking back at the event from my thirties. I repressed the memory of being attacked by her dog.
I had a couple of vague, hazy memories from after the attack: my sister staring at me as I rested on the couch in our living room, my parents calling the doctor, me lying on the hospital bed. My first clear memories are of standing in my room, lifting my dress and staring at the bandage on my right side. My mom told me I had been bitten by a dog, but I didn’t remember it.
How can I even begin to describe what it’s like? I’d go to school and this was the scene that played out:
A group of kids gathered around me as I took off my winter coat.
Kids: You were bit by a dog.
