Dog, Coyote & Rabies-Vector Bite

It came at you in broad daylight, jaw slick with froth, and bit deep into your face before it could be clubbed off, and every soul who saw it knows what that froth means. The wounds are washed with carbolic until you scream, a madstone is pressed to them through the night, and nobody meets your eyes. There is no cure west of Paris. If the madness takes root, the fever, the horror of water, the visions, it is a slow and certain door.

• Deep facial bite wounds, sutured and dressed, dressings changed daily for 5 days
• The waiting: every headache and chill for weeks gets weighed in silence
• Folk who saw the animal keep their distance without meaning to
• /me touches the bandaged face and stares too long at a full water cup

Recovery The wounds mend in a week or two under care. Whether the madness comes is the true roll, and 1899 owns no medicine for it.·Doctor, urgently

The feral pack took you off your feet and the big one worried your forearm like a rag doll while you covered your throat with the other hand. The muscle is torn ragged and punctured to the bone, and the doctor spends an hour with silk and forceps rebuilding the arm before binding it against the near-certain infection.

• Mangled forearm splinted and slung, no use of that arm for 5 days
• Fever watch for 3 nights; dog mouths are filthy and the doctor says so plainly
• Ragged tooth scars the length of the forearm, a permanent exhibit
• /me guards the slung arm from every friendly clap on the shoulder

Recovery A week under daily care; untreated, the deep punctures close over their filth and blood poisoning follows inside three days.·Doctor, urgently

The bite itself was modest, four punctures in the calf from a skulking cur, but by the second day the leg is hot, swollen shiny, and streaked red toward the knee, and a fever has you talking to the wallpaper. The doctor opens every puncture back up to drain and packs them, cursing whoever told you a dog bite could be left alone.

• Leg wound opened and draining, dressings changed twice daily for 4 days
• Fevered and weak; no work and no riding for 3 days
• Red streaks up the calf that the doctor traces with a grim finger each visit

Recovery 6 days of drain-and-dress under a doctor; untreated, the streaks reach the groin and the matter turns mortal.·Doctor, urgently

You went down under the spooked horse and the coyote was on your face before you could raise a hand, tearing bites to cheek and brow, gone again in seconds when the others reached you. The animal ran off healthy-looking and quick, which is a mercy. The stitching takes the evening; the mirror takes longer.

• Sutured tearing wounds on cheek and brow, dressings for 5 days, scars for good
• One eye swollen half-shut for 3 days; your aim and your card game both suffer
• Children stare; you develop a rotation of answers
• /me turns the stitched side of their face away from the lamplight, mid-story

Recovery 6 days of careful cleaning against infection; the scars are yours to keep either way.·Doctor required

The feral dog clamped onto your calf and would not be kicked loose, it took a fence board to open its jaw. Deep punctures top and bottom where the teeth met through the muscle, each one a well of filth. The doctor irrigates every hole with carbolic, an operation you feel in your back teeth.

• Punctured calf, hard limp, walk never sprint, for 4 days
• Punctures kept open and washed daily for 4 days; they must heal from the bottom
• /me rolls up a trouser leg to show a matched set of tooth holes, both sides

Recovery 5 days treated, 8 untreated as the deep holes fester quietly under clean-looking skin.·Doctor required

You reached to fend it off and the dog took your hand to the wrist, teeth grinding across the knuckles before you tore free. Hands go bad faster than any other bite, the doctor says, too many small works in there to fester, and he soaks, probes, and wraps it like it owes him money.

• Bitten hand soaked and wrapped, no gun hand and no rope work for 4 days
• Knuckles too swollen to make a fist for 3 days
• Tooth-drag scars across the back of the hand, permanent and readable

Recovery 5 days of daily soaks under care; untreated, a festering hand can cost fingers their bend for good.·Doctor required

The raccoon that bit your forearm was out at noon, bold as a tax man, and would not spook, and everyone knows what that can mean. The wound is small; the night is long. A neighbor rides two hours to fetch a madstone, and it sits pressed to the boiled-clean bite until dawn while the household pretends to sleep.

• A cleaned and dressed bite on the forearm, tender for 3 days
• Short sleep and long thoughts, you are distracted and snappish for 2 days
• /me presses two fingers to the bandage, as if checking something is still out
• Every water trough gets a sidelong glance for a week, just to be sure you can

Recovery 3 days for the wound itself; the watching lasts as long as you let it.·Doctor required

The cur got your trouser and then your leg, and you tore loose the hard way, its teeth dragging a set of furrows down your calf rather than punching deep. Ragged, bloody, and dramatic to look at, but open wounds rinse clean far better than punctures, and the doctor says you tore lucky.

• Furrowed calf, scrubbed and bandaged, limping for 3 days
• Dressing changes sting like the original argument for 3 days
• Four parallel scars incoming, good for measuring the dog against

Recovery 4 days treated, 6 untreated with the furrows crusting dirty.·Doctor required

The half-wild yard dog darted from under the porch and nipped your ankle to the bone before retreating in triumph. Two punctures, honest and deep enough to respect. The animal is known, collared, and visibly healthy, so it is the filth in the bite you are fighting, not the fear.

• A punctured ankle, washed with carbolic and wrapped for 3 days
• Noticeable limp for 2 days
• /me steps wide around every porch in town, eyes down at the shadows

Recovery 3 days minded, 5 neglected and swollen.·Doctor advised

The coyote's bite on your forearm is clean and shallow, it is the animal that troubles you, thin and wrong-moving in the daylight before it slunk off. The doctor scrubs the wound honest and tells you the odds are long in your favor, and you nod, and you both look out the window anyway.

• A scrubbed forearm bite, dressed for 3 days
• Ten days of quietly noticing every chill, headache, and prickle
• You ask two different people, casually, what they thought of how it moved

Recovery 3 days for the flesh; the odds are with you, and saying so aloud helps.·Doctor required

The skunk bit your hand when you moved it off the porch with a broom, then paid you in full with the other end on its way out. The bite is two small punctures, dutifully scrubbed; the smell is a biblical event that closes rooms when you enter them.

• A scrubbed hand bite, dressed and tender for 2 days
• You smell like judgment day for 2 days despite every remedy known
• /me enters, and the card table folds its hands and breathes through sleeves

Recovery 2 days for the hand; the smell keeps its own calendar.·Doctor advised

You woke in the hayloft to a scratch and a flutter, and found the bat tangled in the blanket. The mark on your shoulder is barely a pinprick, but a bat bite is the smallest wound with the longest shadow, and you scrub it with carbolic until the skin is raw and pink around it.

• A scrubbed-raw patch on the shoulder, dressed for 2 days
• You sleep poorly indoors for a few nights, one ear on the rafters
• The hayloft gets smoked out before you will bed there again

Recovery 2 days for the skin; the doctor notes the date, and you both keep it in mind.·Doctor advised

You cornered the fox in the henhouse and it went through your hand to get out, one slashing bite, more escape than attack, gone over the fence with a bird anyway. The cut runs shallow across the palm, easy to clean, hard to explain to whoever counts the hens.

• A slashed palm, cleaned and wrapped, weak grip for 2 days
• /me flexes a bandaged palm and recounts the fox fight, hen count omitted
• The fox looked sleek and quick, which everyone agrees is good news

Recovery 2 days wrapped; a palm scar that fades to a thin line.·Doctor advised

The stray snapped once at your boot line, caught a pinch of skin above the leather, and fled yelping when you shouted, a scared dog, not a mad one, by every sign in the book. A shallow nip, a whiskey wash, and a resolve to feed the next one instead.

• A shallow nip above the boot, tender for 1 day
• You carry a biscuit in your pocket now, as policy

Recovery A day; the nip closes clean.·No doctor needed

The raccoon never bit at all, it ran straight up you like a tree, claws finding purchase the whole way, and launched off your shoulder into the night with the camp bacon. You are scored with scratches from belt to collar, none deep, all indignant.

• A ladder of scratches from belt to collar, washed and stinging for 1 day
• /me lifts their shirt hem to show the claw ladder, rung by rung
• The bacon is gone and the raccoon is a local legend now

Recovery A day or two; wash them well and mourn the bacon.·No doctor needed

The coyote got a mouthful of trouser leg and shook, and you kicked free with the fabric tearing and only a red pinch-mark on the skin beneath. It stood off at twenty yards after, watching you in a way you did not care for, then trotted away moving easy and sound.

• A pinch-bruise on the calf, tender for 1 day
• Trousers torn knee to cuff, flapping like a flag until mended

Recovery A day; the trousers need more doctoring than you do.·No doctor needed

The feral dog charged, snapped the air an inch from your hand, and held its ground snarling until you backed out of its patch, territory business, done by the book. Its coat was rough but its eyes were clear and it moved sound. You leave with whole skin and a set of new manners about strange yards.

• Not a mark on you, just a lesson delivered at volume
• /me backs away slow with both hands raised, talking low and even

Recovery Nothing to heal; give that yard its distance a while.·No doctor needed

The dog hit your arm full force and its teeth met in the heavy coat sleeve, grinding wool while you stood very still inside it, entirely untouched. It let go, sneezed out a mouthful of fibers, and lost all conviction. The sleeve is a ruin. The arm inside never felt a tooth.

• Untouched, one coat sleeve chewed to felt in your stead
• A perfect set of tooth holes in the cuff for demonstrations

Recovery Nothing to heal; the tailor gets the whole bill.·No doctor needed

The bite on your arm was shallow, but the dread was not, until the animal was found the next morning: a farm dog three miles over, known to every hand in the valley, fat, friendly, and sound as a bell, sleeping off its adventure in its own yard. The fear lifts off you like a coat coming off. The scratch is nothing at all.

• A shallow, healing bite mark on the forearm, already scabbing clean
• /me laughs suddenly at nothing, then explains about the farm dog, twice

Recovery A day for the mark; the relief is immediate and total.·No doctor needed

The gaunt, wild-eyed beast that ran you down in the road plants both paws on your chest, and licks your face raw. Under the burrs and mud is a collar with a brass plate: a sheepdog lost off a drive two counties back, half-starved and out of its mind with joy at finding a human. You bring it in across your saddle. The owner's reward buys the whole saloon a round, and the dog will not leave your side while you drink it.

• Not a scratch, just a face washed by a desperate friend
• Bragging rights: the rabid beast of the north road was a lost sheepdog, and you brought it home
• /me scratches the sheepdog's ears as it leans its whole weight against their leg

Recovery Nothing to heal; the dog recovers faster than your reputation for caution.·No doctor needed