I have quite a few friends living in Chicago, one of which being my buddy Brad, one of my best friends from college. About six years ago, he and his then-girlfriend/now-wife Josie moved out of my house in Cleveland to pursue a bigger life in Chicago. Had I not owned a home in Cleveland, I most likely would have followed shortly behind them.
Over the years, we've paid each other quite a few visits, but I can't say I've ever had one with them quite like the weekend of January 21st, 2011. Just a month or two prior, while Brad and Josie were visiting home for either Thanksgiving or Christmas, Brad mentioned to me that he may need some help in the upcoming months with the renovation of their home. Brad's a certified architect and was currently in the process of rebuilding some of the space their new home had to offer. Always eager to help out my architect buddies with their home improvement projects, I told him just to let me know when he needed me and I'd drive out and spend the weekend. I could even bring Kino along to hang out with their dogs Phantom and Tucker. We decided on said weekend at the end of January, arranging it so that I would drive from Cleveland to the outskirts of Toledo where Brad and his brother Tommy would meet me on the turnpike, as Brad had just spent the week helping Tommy handling a few things with his house around Bowling Green. We rendezvoused at the first exit as you cross over the Indiana border, grabbed a quick bite to eat and caravanned west towards Chicago, arriving back at Brad and Josie's house just around 10:00pm.
The next few hours were a mix of pizza, a short house tour, a bit of bourbon and literally hours of Arkham Asylum (which, by the way is completely addicting...days will pass from your life with little notice, and this comes from someone who is by no means a gamer in the least). We had taken a few trips up to second floor to determine what tomorrow's workload would bring us and what goals we planned on accomplishing. Just around 3am, when we decided that it would be best to get a full night's sleep, chaos ensued.
We decided earlier in the evening so separate the dogs' food as Kino and Phantom, being opposite sexes and clearly both alpha dogs, didn't show too much fondness to each other when both had access to the same bowl.
It was a total accident. Brad suggested letting Kino eat before we went to bed, which Kino never really ever does, but for whatever reason I agreed, so his bowl was put out in the dining room. We both thought the kitchen gate, which would keep both Phantom and Tucker out of conflict with Kino, was shut tight. We were tired. It was 3am. There was an oversight, a momentary lapse in reason. Somehow Phantom got out of the gate. She tried to approach Kino's food. He snapped at her to tell her no. She snapped back. A fight begins. I hear a cry. A wail. A canine howl of sheer pain and panic. I reach in. No pain. I pull Phantom back. A louder wail. Brad grabs Kino. His teeth are bared. His eyes are wild. We trade, Kino now in my arms, Brad dragging Phantom into the main room. Both, still thrashing, gnashing teeth. There is blood on my hand. I grab Kino. He goes limp, knowing he's safe in my arms.
At first I didn't see it. I looked at the right side of his face, which was completely unmarked. I look at the left side, and I nearly panic. Where his left eye should be is now raw meat, the excess skin from a gaping gash in his forehead so large it appears as if he's been halfway scalped. My stomach jumps into my throat as I immediately clamp my hand over his eye. I heard him wail. I heard him cry, begging for my help during the attack. I'll never, as long as I live, forget that sound. Pressure is the key. I pray that he hasn't lost his eye. He sits there, stoic and poised...shaking, but embracing the pain. Brad marvels at the lack of blood that seems to be emanating from the wound.
Thanks to my friend Jessi Pizzouli, DVM, we found a 24-hour veterinary clinic just a few miles away. When it was all said and done, he didn't lose his eye, and he only walked away with 16 stitches. He would be pretty sore these next few weeks, but he would get through it. He's been through worse. He's a ninja. A canine ninja. ...That gets his ass kicked by "Jack Russell Terrier" mixes.
The rest of the weekend? It doesn't matter, but i'll provide the outline.
Saturday consisted of Batman, Batman, Destruction, Labor, Batman, Lunch, Batman, Destruction, Hauling wood, Power Vacuuming, Roof Destruction (this was the most exciting part, upon finding that the attic we were tearing apart was insulated with 120 year-old Chicago Tribunes.) Showers. Batman. A Quest for food, which upon nearly finding none, was met with Tommy's frank, but spot-on rationale; "Not serving food past 11? Great. Back at the house we have cold pizza and Batman." ...Tommy makes a good point.
On Sunday, mid-afternoon, I piled Tommy and my crippled, satellite-enhanced dog into the car and started driving east back towards Cleveland After an eventful and hilarity-fulfilled ride, (as I will contest that Tommy is by far one of the funniest people I know), I dropped Tommy off back at his house outside of Bowling Green University and continued on my way back home. My poor dog...swollen, wearing a huge plastic collar on his head to keep from tearing out the stitches...it wasn't more than a few minutes before I nicknamed him Frankenstein. Fortunately, the name didn't stick.
Nine months later, Kino's doing fine and I haven't served him food in the presence of another animal since. And outside of a single, small scar on his left eyelid, he's completely unscarred and okay. There was no sight loss. There was no surgery. And right now, he's sitting, calm as ever, underneath me at a corner cafe while I finish up dinner. It was a quick scare, but it was a scare. I'm just glad he's okay. At the least, I got one of the best family portraits ever taken out of the whole event. ...And you can be damn sure that it's going to be my Christmas Card.
