Two years ago, my husband and I took a trip to Paris for our anniversary. It was an amazing trip, until my obsession with dogs got in between us and Moulin Rouge. So, there we were-strolling along the delightful streets of Montmartre, taking in the beautiful Parisian fall air. We were in vacation-mode where time wasn't an issue, so we took our time to look into all the little shop windows on our way to see the infamous Moulin Rouge. Until, I got sidetracked by a semi-cute stray dog.
If you know me, you know that I pretty much think every dog in the world has some cuteness quality to appreciate. So, I did what I would do any other time I saw a four-legged fury creature-my ADD kicked in and I charged toward the dog to introduce myself and give him a few pets. Well, MUCH to my chagrin, this particular fur-beast didn't like me and he let me know by snapping at my extended hand and sinking his teeth into my wrist. Skin was broken, blood appeared and the next thing I knew I was being strapped into a stretcher and taken away by an ambulance. Apparently those Parisians don't take dog bites lightly. While my French is weak, I'm guessing the EMT's were saying something along the lines of "crazy, stupid American girl." My husband rode along with me as I cried-not because of the pain of my freshly bit wrist but because my feelings were so hurt that this dog didn't like me. A few hours later, I donned a fresh bandage wrapped around my wrist and luckily no stitches were needed.
The fun didn't begin until I got back to the states though-I'm pretty sure I was the talk of the Boston VA system. While petting a strange stray dog in another country seemed completely acceptable in my naive animal-loving world, the doctors who were injecting me with a series of rabies shots over the next few months thought otherwise. Long story short-I'd really love to get back to see Moulin Rouge before I kick the bucket. And you better believe I still pet strange dogs-I just approach them at a slower pace. :)