The Bites

Brenda has bit Ben three times. The first incident happened in late April just a few weeks after she was found, and about a week after we returned from our vacation in Aruba. We came home late one night (after having a few drinks) and Brenda was on our bed. Ben reached over her to grab a water bottle that was next to her. She punctured his hand.

It was quick; she didn’t latch on and it wasn’t very deep.

Still, it was scary. After that, we were all a little more apprehensive around Brenda—especially Ben. In early July, she got him again. I was in the bathroom, Brenda was on her bed and Ben walked into the room where she was. The lights were off and he had to pass her perpendicularly, though about six feet from her, to get to our bed. She rushed him without warning. He went to the hospital the next morning and got three stitches in his thigh.

The third time was a lot less severe. It happened a few weeks later, just as suddenly and with no provocation. Again, Ben walked into the room but this time was facing straight toward her. She charged him. The only damage she inflicted was a scrape on his finger, but the scars on Ben’s psyche remain.

I’m astonished he didn’t throw her out right there and then. Ben’s empathy toward Brenda continues to amaze me. We’ve struck a deal. Brenda can stay if she is tethered, crated or muzzled in his presence. I’ve complied. I suspect that given the chance Brenda would bite him again. More often than not she still goes ballistic when he enters a room.