I Remember

I remember being attacked by a dog when I was 8.

I remember she belonged to my cousin’s neighbor.

I remember she just had puppies.

I don’t remember accidentally stepping on her paw.

I remember her jumping on my face.

I remember the vicious sounds she made.

I remember her biting my rear end as I tried to run away.

I don’t remember who pulled her off.

I remember walking home with an ice pack on my face.

I remember seeing my wound in the mirror.

I remember my mom’s face when she saw me.

I don’t remember calmly telling my parents to “not freak out”.

I remember going to the emergency room.

I remember the cold anesthetic jelly.

I remember getting a cute sticker from the occupational therapist.

I don’t remember how long we were there.

I remember reciting entire episodes of “Rugrats” and “Aaah Real Monsters!” for my doctors.

I remember holding my breath to slow my heart rate on the monitor.

I remember the hospital staff laughing at my little prank.

I don’t remember being afraid to see my reflection when they were done.

I remember learning how to clean and care for 40 stitches.

I remember how much it hurt when they were removed.

I remember having to sit on a pillow for two weeks.

I don’t remember my older brother threatening to beat up anyone who made fun of me.

I remember understanding what happened.

I remember still loving my dogs.

I remember hearing the sounds of my coworker’s dogs fighting.

I don’t remember ever feeling so much like a scared child again.