So, now I have four and a half scars on my legs, soon to be five. All the holes in my legs from where the dogs bit me have healed except for one. The really big hole is about halfway healed, I think. The open part is about half as big as it was before. So gross, but at least it’s healing and it’s not infected. (I won’t be a pirate, sorry. No plundered gold for you.) I can see where the scar is starting to form. It’s going to be big and not pretty.
When I was first attacked by the dogs, I asked myself, “Why?” Why did this happen to me?
My first thought was that God was angry at me and punishing me for something. That seemed like a logical explanation, except that I’ve been really good lately, extra good (how much trouble can I get into living in a convent?). I haven’t done anything bad, so why would God punish me for nothing? No, that can’t be it, unless he’s punishing me for something I haven’t done yet? Maybe I’m about to do something wicked and he just wanted to get the punishment out of the way? That’s possible.
My second thought was that it must be karma. I was probably really mean to those dogs in another life. Maybe I stole eggs from them or made fun of their haircut or maybe I even bit them first. In this life, I’m the tall, white teacher who sits at the table and eats good food, and they are the dogs who eat fish heads and leftovers and live with chains around their necks. They finally got their revenge by biting me and leaving five scars, and I am just getting what I deserve for being mean to them in a former life. The thing is, I can’t imagine myself ever biting anyone, in any life. I don’t know. I guess all I can do is be really nice to them, and to everyone else I meet, so that I’ll have better karma in my next life.
I also considered that maybe it’s just my luck. I’ve had such good luck in my life, and so many good things happen to me. Maybe this was just my bad luck catching up to me. Being attacked by dogs is BAD LUCK. I hope that this incident used up a lot of my bad luck, so that I’ll have only good luck for a while. I prefer good luck to bad luck any day.
It also crossed my mind that maybe it was fate. Maybe it’s my destiny. Maybe there’s a reason why I was attacked by dogs. I can’t imagine what the reason is in the big scheme of things, other than the fact that with scars on my legs I am completely unlovable and no one will ever want to marry me. Maybe that’s the reason. Maybe I’m destined to become a spinster.
Sister Juliana suggested a different destiny for me. “If no one will marry you, you might as well become a nun,” she said one evening at dinner. “We’ll give you a veil and you can become one of us.”
“I could never be a nun!” I told her. “There are three reasons why I can’t be a nun: poverty, chastity, and obedience.” Those are three vows every nun must make. Sister Juliana just laughed.
When one of my best friends found out about that I was bitten by dogs, she assured me in an email that my true love will still want to marry me. “He’ll probably be the type who thinks African-made scars are sexy!” she wrote. Could that be it? Maybe I’m destined to spend my life with a man who is turned on by African-made scars, and if it weren’t for these dogs, he’d never fall in love with me!
Then again, maybe not. Maybe there is no significance whatsoever, and no reason at all. Maybe the universe is not subject to some greater force or a higher power, maybe there is no God or karma or luck or fate, and everything that happens in life, dog bites included, is just coincidence.
Either way... if any of you know a man who is attracted to women with African-made scars, and if he is tall, dark, and handsome, let me know. He could be my soul mate.
I suddenly have much more sympathy for Elmira Gulch. I think if Toto bit my leg, I’d want him locked away, too.