I couldn’t handle food.I needed to burn off the energy filling me up so much I was gonna pop.So instead of getting lunch, I offered to walk Goliath.Goliath was one of our research dogs.They had volunteers who walked the dogs, but the lab staff did it too.Usually, I’d take one of the greyhounds, because they didn’t pull on their leashes.The other dogs were hit and miss, behavior-wise.They were all rescues, most without leash training, and because a different person walked them every day, they weren’t being trained consistently.When I got to the kennels, all of the dogs were out being walked except for Goliath.As near as we could figure, he was a mastiff / pittie / Saint Bernard mix, and he weighed over two hundred pounds.The volunteers didn’t walk him.He was way too big and strong, and he pulled like a plow horse.Roger walked him.Roger was six foot four and could carry Goliath over his shoulder.He was adopting Goliath as soon as he completed his last toy trial.Roger wasn’t in yet, so I took Goliath out, figuring if he made me run, it would help burn off my anxiety about tonight.
The sky was overcast, but it was pretty warm for May, and I figured the rain would cool us off.Goliath broke into a lope.I wasn’t anywhere near as fit as I had been when I’d been dancing professionally, but I could keep up with him.
The sky kept getting darker.Then it went green, and the streetlights came on.
In hindsight, I should have remembered that Goliath had this issue.We didn’t know his history, but what we found out while we were doing behavior trials was that hehatedloud noises.Like, he’d panic and try to get away.
What I didn’t know was that when he heard thunder, he exhibited a whole other level of panic.I had the leash wrapped around my wrist pretty tight because I didn’t want him getting away.
Apparently that was what put me in the hospital.
It could have been worse.He could have bolted, yanked me off my feet, dragged me for a whole city block over a concrete sidewalk,andgotten away.I was wearing a hoodie and jeans, so my skin got scraped instead of shredded.
I was lucky.When he heard the thunder, Goliath ran straight for the lab building.Someone from the lab saw me, unwound Goliath’s leash from my wrist, and got him back into the building with the help of a couple other people.Then, someone I didn’t know offered to drive me to the hospital, because I sure as hell wasn’t going back to work.He was really nice.I got blood all over his car too, which I apologized for, but he said not to worry and that I reminded him of his grandson.I didn’t know if his grandson bled all over his car on a regular basis or what.He stayed with me in the ER until a doctor saw me.The lights blinked out a couple of times because a huge storm was happening with rain sheeting down the waiting room windows.
I was probably in the worst pain I’d ever felt, and I’d had some pretty bad injuries from dancing.They gave me a CT scan and took x-rays, and while I was waiting for the results, Simon called, and I had to tell him what happened.He told me to apply for workers’ comp.
Turned out my ribs were cracked, and my wrist was sprained.I was covered in scrapes, but I didn’t need stitches.They sent me home, telling me to ice my ribs and take over-the-counter pain meds as needed.I took an Uber home because it took me ten minutes to walk from the exam room to the exit doors.I couldn’t walk to the subway.I could barely walk at all because everything hurt so much.
I didn’t realize how late it was till I was nearly home.Then I remembered him.I hadn’t thought about him once since it happened.Maybe it was good I’d had a break from thinking about him because thinking about him all day had been tiring me out.
It took me three tries to get the key in the lock.I went in and dropped my keys and my hoodie onto the couch.He was sitting there holding his phone.
“What the fuck, Craig?”
I hadn’t looked at myself since it happened.My T-shirt and jeans were shredded and covered in blood.I sat on the couch beside him.If my mom was there, she’d have screamed at me not to sit on the furniture till I got cleaned up.He didn’t yell at me.
I noticed a pizza box open on the coffee table.I hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
“You ordered pizza.”
He got me a plate and a glass of milk and put them in front of me.I was so used to how my mother treated me when I was sick.She would have said, “Get your own milk.”So I couldn’t believe he’d do that for me.
He sat beside me.“What the fuck happened, Craig?”He didn’t sound angry, only concerned.
So I told him.
“Fuck,” he said.
I ate one slice of pizza slowly while he sat on the couch watching me.He didn’t seem angry, but the way he was looking at me was like he was...hurt?If I hadn’t been in so much pain, I’d have felt guilty.
“I’ve got to put my clothes in to soak,” I said.
“I can do that.”
“I’ll get changed.Stay here.”I didn’t want to get undressed in front of him.I took a minute to pull myself up, and every second hurt.He didn’t try to help, and that made me sad.I didn’t know why.
I got dressed for bed and dropped my ripped clothes into the bathtub.I bent over to put the plug in and realized that was a bad idea, so I went to the living room.“I put my stuff in the tub.Could you run some cold water on them to soak?I’d do it, but it kills to bend over.”
He went and did what I asked, then he came back to the living room.“You want to watch TV?”
“Sure.But nothing that’ll make me laugh, or it’ll hurt worse.”
He put in the DVD ofStep Up 2.I was sweating by then.
“Did they give you anything for the pain?”
“No.I’m supposed to take over-the-counter stuff.”
