Glenys Christian: Snarling, frothing attack leaves emotional toll

Glenys Christian is a former agricultural editor of the <i>Herald.</i>

Two years ago, I was visiting my partner on Great Barrier Island. Walking back from the shop, I cut inside a stationwagon parked by a small reserve. As I came alongside it, I felt a sharp pain in my upper arm. I turned and was confronted by a snarling German shepherd, frothing at the mouth. Its head was well out of the partly open window, centimetres from my face. Inside, another dog started barking wildly.

I yelled, "Leave me!" and instinctively jerked my arm away.

By the time I got back to my partner's place, about a minute away, I was in tears - the shock had kicked in and my arm was throbbing.

Peeling off layers of clothes - a T-shirt, fleecy jersey and a sturdy waterproof jacket - I found holes in each. A deep puncture wound on my arm was surrounded by purple bruising but surprisingly little blood.

I washed it carefully with Dettol while my partner went to the shop to speak to the dog owners. They were sorry and wound up the window immediately.

When I got back to Auckland, I phoned the council to report the incident. On the phone, I was in tears again, emotional just remembering.

Eventually the case went to court; the owners pleaded guilty and were fined $800 for owning a dog that attacked a person. I regard the matter as closed.

But what I didn't realise was, even with a minor wound, there are considerable emotional repercussions. As an agricultural journalist, I come across plenty of dogs in my work. I make a habit of addressing them firmly, watching for any indication they may become aggressive. I'm the sort of person who doesn't open a gate if I have any doubts about a dog's behaviour.

My parents bought a dog for my brother precisely because he was scared of them. My partner has owned a dog and won't replace it because he couldn't bear to lose another, even after a long and happy life.

I'm fond of dogs, although probably, when it comes down to it, I'm a paid-up cat person.

But after the attack, I found myself feeling unusually stressed. Walking from one room to another in my house, I would think I had seen a movement outside and would be suddenly on high alert.

Not an anxious person, I found myself concerned about leaving the house, being on unfamiliar territory, not knowing what I was going to encounter.

So reading in Wednesday's Herald of yet another child being attacked by a dog - and a pet owned by a relative at that - makes me feel something really needs to be done, and soon.

Maybe dog licences should be more like firearms licences? Maybe an intending owner should have to sit a test, name referees and be checked out by the police?

Dog ownership shouldn't come as of right.

My life is pretty much back to normal. But I can't help looking at the smooth young faces of my partner's grandchildren and feeling so grateful the scar on my arm isn't on one of those for a lifetime.

And a parked car will never be just a parked car to me again.

Glenys Christian is a former agricultural editor of the Herald.