Scars

When I was five or six, I was bit in the face by a dog. 

My parents had taken to me visit some friends who lived on a farm outside the small town we lived in in Iowa. The girl was older than me and eager to impress me. We had met once or twice before. She tried to impress me by telling me their dog was so calm, she could step on its tail and it wouldn't do anything. I thought this was a very bad idea. But I was just a little girl, and she was eager to impress me. She grabbed my hand and pulled me outside into the hot, humid cornfield summer, to the shade of a tree where the dog was laying. Again, I said I thought it was a bad idea, but her brother chimed in that it's no problem. I tried to stay back, away from the dog, as she went to impress me. 

What happened was a blur. I saw her step forward and step on the dog's tail. She was saying something like, "look it's fine" when with a growl and leap the dog (who was larger than six year old self) jumped up, knocked me over and bit my face. I was told I screamed, but all I remember is being confused as to how I ended up under the dog. 

Next was all the excitement you would expect: people running outside, the dog running away, being picked up, worried mother, rocking me, holding a towel/ice on my bleeding face in the bathroom. Crying as I sat in the front seat of the car as we drove on empty highways. It was summer, the corn was high and I fixated on the cornrows in the fields as we drove by. The rural emergency room. My body, arms and legs were bound in a stretcher. No anaesthesia was given. The surgery had to take place with me apparently awake. I screamed at the doctors, called them cruel and said I didn't care about the risks of death. They loosened my bonds, and I calmed down. Invoking a quietness and traveling to the future in my mind - what I would do different in the future. It was terrifying watching them work the needle in my skin from my peripheral vision. (One bite was 1/2 inch from my eye.)

I got through the trauma. Two big scars marking my face. I gave up on being beautiful then. The scars opened up new possibilities. Erased the societal pressure to be a pretty. Erased the societal pressure to be anything defined.

I found out later, they killed the dog. Even then, I knew it wasn't the dog's fault he acted the way he did. The dog was just acting like a dog. The girl did a stupid thing. He didn't need to be killed for being what he was.

I haven't thought of this day for many years. My scars are just part of who I am. Thirty years later, they are faded to being almost unnoticeable, even while I see them, acknowledge them every day in the mirror. 

I was only reminded of this day, while reading a favorite book, The Scar, by China Mievelle. Mievelle's book gives me goosebumps and inspiration. Scars and Possibility. Like the floating city, I return to my scars (I have several more) to mine the possibilities. How boring would life be without the scars? A perfect cream filled face vs red puckered possibilities.

Comments

[Portland Firefly]

This story brings tears to my chemo-blurry eyes. I will never forget that day. The father running out of the house before the actual bite because he knew there was danger. The two mother's arms ~ dropping baskets laden with fresh picked green beans ~ running behind him as we heard the growls and screams. Chaos, comforting, consoling, commanding cool. A young loving Mother, willing to drive 90 minutes to get a plastic surgeon. Trusting the local doctors; forbidden from the ER room; not knowing that doctors could be egotistical,sadistical butchers. BTW, He later lost his license, I heard.
Yes, you never ever let any of the scars of that day affect your ability to do anything. They never once bothered you. And to my knowledge, no one ever teased you about them. They wouldn't dare!
You survived a brutal attack; one tooth perilously close to your beautiful blue eye; another almost ripped open the corner of your mouth; the third canine went into your sweet cheek near your ear. This means that the fourth canine should have gone into your 5 year old neck ~ the jugular. By the grace of God, that tooth only left a scratch on your neck ~ no stitches needed!
This was not the first or the last incident with that dog, which is why they put him down a few months later.
And... you have always been very, very pretty... I would even say... beautiful....

[glenna]

YOU BOTH SHOW US HOW TO ACCEPT OUR SCARS WITH GRACE. TWO BEAUTIFULLY LADIES THAT HELP US SEE THE WORLD BETTER THROUGH THEIR MAGNIFICENT TEAL EYES.
ONE'S SCARS ARE RARELY OBSERVED BY OTHERS THOUGH THEY ARE THERE MAKING A ROAD MAP OF OUR SELVES. g