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This is a question When animals attack...

I once, accidentally, punched a racoon.

It had wandered into my tent, I was half asleep and thought it was a mate pratting around. There was a yelp and then all hell broke loose.

What have you been attacked by?

(, Thu 2 Jun 2005, 9:39)
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This question is now closed.

rupert bear
my mother decided that from an early age, me and Weazal (my twin brother) wouldn't be having birthday parties at home but cultural trips out to celebrate our desprogging (basically we lived on a council estate, and my mum had airs and didn't want the kiddie scum we associated with to muck up her house, this was proved correct in her mind when a summer playscheme she helped set up, got her to "host" a party for the under 10 group and one of the kids brought his big brother's copy of "frigging in the rigging", I have never seen her moving so fast, out of the kitchen to get to the record player)
Anyway, "Rupert the Bear and the magic something or other" was playing the Theatre Royal in Norwich and she deemed this a suitable birthday outing for her darling offspring.
We enjoyed it from what I can remember (I was only 5) and then went to have afternoon tea at her friend Vicky's shop round the corner. Vicky was looking after her parents's jack russell terrier, so me and Weazal and a large bag of doggie choc drops were despatched to the back room to play with the dog, so they could chat. Weazal quickly discover the little dog would jump quite high for choc drops and then held one in front of my face and which point I discover a small dog hanging from one of my nostils.
Blood from me, followed by screaming from me, Weazal, my mum and Vicky, followed by quick trip to A&E and a mild phobic reaction to small yapping dogs for several years.
(Also, as this was not the only scrap Weazal had been responsible for getting me into, a slight worrying feeling he was really quite miffed about not being an only child)
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 20:53, Reply)
I used to bite dogs
to make the headlines.
I never did. Stuck-up conservative bastards.
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 20:20, Reply)

the Godfather of all geese didn't so much attack me as sent all its minions scattering for my (plump pink six year old) form, while it just sat on its goosehaunches honking. i hope he's now providing ample stuffing for a duvet somewhere, the bastard.
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 20:06, Reply)
dr doolittle - I aint!
just the ones that spring to mind:
dogs
cats
horses
bullocks
them wierdy cockatoo birds, like johnney morris had
leatherback turtles
camels
donkeys
llamas
little red arsed monkeys
big grey monkeys
monitor lizards
a wide selection of fishes
humans
a scorpion
mosquitoes
and last but not least, swans; satan's very own budgie!!!!

also recommend watching 'man vs beast' on channel 5 (i tink)
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 19:28, Reply)
Central Park, NYC
While living in NY, I decided I was ready for a dog and settled on an English Mastiff puppy. He is a great dog...and when he was younger, we used to run in the park at night.

So one night, we are running along this softball field in Central Park, it was around 11pm and I am running in combat fatigues, combat boots and a USMC Officer Candidate School t-shirt...puppy along for the airing....when out of the pitch black night, this grey blur comes FLYING out of the outfield of the softball field and lunges right for my dogs neck!

Once it ceased its rapid forward motion I was able to determine it was a dalmation. I hated that cartoon as a kid and my yelping puppy only made me hate the breed more. So, I did what any former American football player (or English for that matter) would do, I took two quick steps, planted my foot and BOOTED (quite literally) that Dalmation a good ten feet in the air. Not ten feet distance wise, but height-wise.

Cue large Polish/Czech/Russian immigrant and his fat wife running up to me to scream that my dog "should be on leash"...which he was. And that I "should no have kicked his dog"...which I did.

Immediately I knew what to do - summoning all the eloquence, wit, cleverness and subtlety at my disposal, I turned to the wife and, happily assured of my genius, said...."Why dont you shut up you stupid fucking cunt?" and glaring.

Husband and wife both, disappointingly, skulked off into the deepening darkness.

I fucking hate Dalmations.
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 16:06, Reply)
and some short ones
1. As a child, my mate got attacked by an owl that got its claw stuck in her forehead for ages, making it seem as if she was wearing a novel animatronic feather hat.

2. I got bitten by a dying cancerous gerbil. I was young and did not understand the concept of cancer at the time, and was convinced I had contracted gerbil cancer for many months.

3. I have endless dog stories, they really hate me, but one that sticks was the pitbull that tried to rip my throat out until my friend punted it with a foot. I had bruises that looked like whip marks from its claws for ages.

4. I once got a bee stuck in my eye. It very nicely didn't sting me. I like bees.

5. My brother got attacked by a robin that our cat had delivered to his room. He claims it was hanging upside down off a poster and he thought it was dead until it whipped its wings out bat-style and flew at his head. I have never laughed so hard at his face. He still hates birds.

6. My boyfriend was attacked by a gang of monkeys. Fantastic.

7. I once showered with a cockroach. I caught it in an upturned glass and it stayed there waving at me until I put a plastic bag over it, because it seemed to be perving.

8. Everyone's has goat kids eat their hair. But how many have been herded into this attack by a gaggle of geese? Me. I hate geese.
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 15:16, Reply)
A Wampa Beast
attacked me once when i was lost in the snow whilst visiting the ice planet Hoth. Fortunately, being a Jedi Knight, i lopped its head off with my light saber and killed it.
I then went for a kip inside a Tauntaun as there was an icy wind outside.
These kinda things happen quite alot to us Jedis.


(uses force to float coat over from other side of room, puts it on and leaves)
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 15:10, Reply)
plus fire
sadly not personally, though I would have loved to see this. here are both long and short, one's good for ice breaking:

short version:
my friend lit a fire and got attacked by a flaming screaming squirrel.

long version:
New York summers get 'quite hot'. During a particularly hot one, my friend was seeing an Irish guy who lived in an apartment in the Village. He and his flatmates had gone camping and brought back firewood for winter, not realising this is very not allowed. My friend told them this, they panicked. They decided to light a fire and burn the wood in the fireplace to remove the evidence of said naughty deed.

It being a stupid hot day, it gets even hotter in the apartment, especially when the smoke starts filling the apartment instead of going up the chimney. They open the window. The neighbours see the smoke and call 911. Visibility is low, and the place is boiling.

Cue a screaming noise from the fireplace.

My friend turns to look as the others run out of the room.

To see a flaming squirrel, screeching, running towards her.

She dodges it, only to watch it begin running circuits around the room trailing smoke and fire in the manner of a cartoon.

After putting it out and out of its misery with the broom, the fire services arrive to deal with their first ever case of squirrel fire damage. It's usually racoons.

I will never apologise for length when its girth that really matters.
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 15:02, Reply)
Ogwen
Tis true. The sheep DO love it.
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 15:01, Reply)
Twizt McTiger
Where on earth did your grand parents live?
Broadmoor?
Robin Island?
Aldermaston?
Belsen?




Ticket to Hull, please. Sorry
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 14:56, Reply)
When Sheep Attack - 100% True story - ask Rhubarb Triangle and Humpty Dumpty Was Pushed!
So me and the lads are on a mountain biking week away in Scotland in February. One day, on a ride. laid out before us a fantastic wide steep trail cutting down through the woods and into the fields in the valley bottom and to a farm. Absolutely idyllic.

So being big and strong I set of first - tearing down the trail, swooping left, swooping right, lovvin it and not in a MacShite kind of way.

Then I saw the sheep (plural of sheep?) Sheepses on the left. about 6 of them, doing what sheepses do, i.e. eating something and standing there.

They spot my lycra clad figure hurtling down the valley at about the same time I spot them, and five of the six sheep leg it across the path away from the fence and in to a convenient field. Sheep number 6 is left alone, on the left, eating a thistle (Well it is Scotland).

Sheep number 6 is stupid - I know this for 2 reasons.
1) it was stupid enough to run across in front of me as i was riding past it. It ran in to my front wheel. I estimate i was going about 30-35 MPH. The bike stopped. Cursing Isaac newton i flew over the handlebars. I landed. i don't remember anything for a while after that.

2) If it wasn't stupid before It would be after. The lads following me came round the corner to see me laid in a heap on the floor, fair amount of blood etc around, bike in a heap with a chunk of sheep firmly attached to the forx, and a sheep, laid on it's back, legs in the air, doing what can only be described as fitting spasmodically, shaking it's legs in the air and with tongue hanging out. When I woke up they put me back on my bike and we rode off, me missing significant portions of skin and clothing.

Gained a bit of wool though!

No apologies for length, girth, bend or flavour - the ladies (and sheep) love it.
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 14:42, Reply)
More about guard dogs
Whenever we used to go to my grandparent's house when I was a toddler, they'd have to open the gates and the security guards and guard dogs would be on both sides of you when you walked in (we're a bit loaded), these dogs are bloody massive (just a bit taller than li'l old toddler twizt) and hate people they dont recognise, cue lots of barking and massive dogs snarling and trying to eat me, thank god they were on leashes, otherwise I'd have been done for! It's a shame they had to get rid of them, turned out they got a bit violent and someone had to stop them by pouring boiling water on them! Ouch!
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 14:40, Reply)
andy currie!
you have the same name as my dad. are u my dad? ...
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 14:25, Reply)
My dead hamster :(
Came home from work monday to find my hamster (Gravey) at the bottom of his cage shaking. went to pick him up to see what was wrong and the little sod (i know you shouldnt talk bad about the dead) bit into my finger and didnt let go!! so, with blood dripping of my hand i screamed for help and had to get my mother to pull the little bugger off my finger! i know have 4 little holes in my finger. sadly my hamster died that evening. still, he had a long and happy little life.
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 14:15, Reply)
Yet another cat related one. With added parrot.
Just before X'mas, I had to work out in deepest Dorset. The person who put me up for the two weeks so happened to live on a farm with not just cats, but goats, dux, dogs, Galahs (which was nice as I had just come back from Oz), and a crazy green parakeet.

1. 6:30 in the morning, and I'm dozing in the true blackness of country night, rather than the orange glow of the sodium lamps of the city. Then the door is flung open with a clatter, to reveal Trouble the cat. Bleary eyed, I look at the cat, who by this time had jumped onto the bed, with the expression 'And you can get out of bed right now. This is kittybed time. And I will pat you on the head until you leave the relative comfort of the duvet.' She also had a habit of knowing when I went to sleep, and curling up on the bed as I was ready to jump in. Lights on, and I see a sleepy kitty look at me as if to say 'And you can turn that light off right now.'

Despite us fighting over bed rights, she was a lovely cat.

2. The parakeet on the other hand, was a completely different kettle of fish. Firstly, the daughter of the household mentioned that since he had not seen any nice female parakeets for some time, it was one frustrated birdy. Secondly, it would launch itself at me at every given opportunity. With the bars of the cage in the way, that was more comical than frightening. This was until they let it out for a bit of a fly round the kitchen. It then proceeded to launch itself at the centre of my forehead, with me screaming 'Holy Kitten Mother of Fuckmuffins!'. Of course, it was just taking the piss, and swerved round my head to the light fitting.

Every morning from then on in, it would glare at me and I would glare at it --- a shared hatred of each other cross species.

I prefered the cats and dogs.
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 12:02, Reply)
I saw a presumably rather silly cat
Try to cross the rather busy main road. Under the wheels of a Fiat Panda it went; and it made one hell of a noise.

Luckly, the cat was completely unharmed, as it continued to run into the house which it lived in. The car on the other hand, limped down the road, exhaust clanging on the tarmac.
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 11:33, Reply)
Stray dog
age 11 i was chased across a field on my bike by a evil stray dog, it wouldnt leave me alone so i stopped and it ran towards me. i booted it clean in the head before it could bite me. this made it madder and it chased me for about 20 minutes now really wanting to eat me before it just walked off. i still hate seeing dogs when im on my bike.
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 11:31, Reply)
Ooops
Should always proof read, meant wombat not woman. Freudian typing there I think!!!
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 10:35, Reply)
Monkey money shot
An attractive female friend of mine, lets call her Amanda, spent some time as a student in a jungle encampment. She arrived a few days after one of the blokes there. He was a nice chap by all accounts but slightly weird. Let's call him Mr. C. He took some pride in the fact that in the few days he's been there he'd managed to become companions with the resident pet monkey. Apparently it would sit on his shoulders all the time, take food from him, scamper around after him, etc.

Amanda was lying on hammock one day when Mr. C came over with monkey in tow. The best thing about the monkey from Mr. C's point of view is that it was the perfect ice breaker and he proceeded to chat to Amanda about monkey related things: "isn't the monkey cute. Look how much he likes having his tummy rubbed etc."

Anyhoo, Mr. C is chatting up Amanda and casually stroking the monkey's tummy. However whenever he removes his hand the monkey becomes quite agitated and puts Mr. C's hand back onto his tummy and Mr. C continues to chat away to Amanda while stroking his monkey (?).

It's a pleasant conversation - marred only by the sudden and calamitous outpouring of the monkey's loins all over the face of Amanda. Apparently the look of alarm on Mr. C's face was second only to the smug look on the monkeys.
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 10:34, Reply)
Wombat savagry!!!
As a backpacker in Oz I went to visit Wilsons Prom in Vicotria to experience its beauty and see some wildlife. Cute kagaroos with joeys and emus and all the other animals we British belive hop about in the back gardens of Australian suburbia.

I came out of my tent and was pleasently surprised to see a wombat foraging about in the grass just beside me. Woman is kind of like a cross between Paddington Bear and a womble for those who dont know. He seemed unpetured by my presence and cae closer to me right up to me infact. I thought I would break all the rules of dealing with wildlife and go in for the stroke. At first all went well. I made contact and was pleased with myself and so retreated. Mr Wombat seemed to follow me, he obviously craved human contact and wanted more. He lad this lovely docile expression on his face as he sniffed my leg and sank his rabid snarling jowels in to it. Right through my jeans and drew blood the vicious little bastard!!!! He then calmly repositioned is head next to the grass and carried on eating, leaving me with an ever growing patch of blood on my thigh and a horrified expression on my face.

And the moral!!!! DONT FUCK WITH WOMBLES!!!! or wombats
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 10:34, Reply)
Flesh eating Hamster
On my 9th birthday i was bought a hamster by my parents. We went to the petshop and i chose a beige one, it was sat in my hand doing cute Hammy type stuff , i decided to call it fudge. We got fudge home and it turned out that he was a little unstable, ok one minute, chewing your thumb the next...

Around 6 months on and my parents seperrated, i ended up living with my grandma for a while... we have been there for a few months and the Hamster disposition is getting worse and worse.

I came home from school one day to find my dear old Gran feeding Hammy pieces of raw meat through the bars... the bloody thing had a taste for flesh!! The very next clean out the little shit decided to make a brake for freedom, after an hours worth of farce we had the little fucker cornered BUT, it was soooo vicious nobody dare pick it up...

Enter stage left my uncle, an 18 stone, 6 foot 4 squaddie just back on leave from service in northern ireland, the were some mutterings about being soft buggers and it was only a sodding hamster ... what was all the fuss about... blah blah blah ...

The resulting scene was one of such epic hilarity it rivaled the Rabbit scene from The Pythons "Holy grail", the melee started with my uncle going for a 2 handed scoop, but alas the hamster anticipated this move , side stepped and sank its teeth into his hand, hard. With a war cry of "You little twat" my uncle put his years of unarmed combat training into use using a violent wrist flick, the rodent flew across the room and slammed into a cupboard door then fell to the floor... the beast was stunned, so soldier boy went in for a second recovery attempt only to be bitten a second time, this time the counter ws different, the hand complete with hamster was plunged into the washing up bowl, it was held under for what seemed like an age but the plucky rodent was having none of it, in a final bid to remove the posessed rodent it was bashed on the worktop with a whiplash flick of the wrist... the hamster conceded defeat and let go , wet tried and bruised it knew that it had been finally beaten.
The very next day it was advertised in the newsagents window as free to a good home, the smelly fat kid from round the corner came and took him... i loved that hamster
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 10:01, Reply)
Was collecting milk money
when i was about 12. Went to parents friends house and as the door open these two feckin huge giant poodles came out. 'Dont worry they wont bite' said my mums mate as they jumped and bounded around. Then the fucker bit a chunk out of my chest, drawing much blood. Wasnt sure who was more shocked, me or her. Ended up going to hospital and when i got out they came round my house and gave me five whole pounds as way of sorry. Never liked the feckers anyway.
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 9:51, Reply)
How to deal with Wasps
I was working in a printers.
One hot summers day a large wasp was buzzing around the printshop driving us all mad.
Cue Les the little West-Indian guy who walks calmly over to it, cups it between his hands, keeps moving his hands like Maracas, walks over to the door and lets it go.
If you keep your hands moving the wasp cannot sting you.
Not that I have ever been brave enough to try it myself.
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 9:37, Reply)
i said "NO"
i got raped by the drummer from The Muppets. The frog saw everything, but denied it all in court. Jim Henson is a bad man.... Soft hands though.
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 9:35, Reply)
baboon love action
a narrowly avoided attack.... I was camping in tanzania a few yrs back, with the GF of the time.. woke up one morning, feeling the approaching warmth of the oncoming african dawn, i started to feel amorous and convinced GF that a dawn shag was a fine idea... so, i climbed aboard, and gave a good account of myself i rather feel. Anyway, the critical moment was reached and, with that slight tinge of post-coital sadness common to us sensitive types, collapsed on the sleeping bag, perspiring quite a lot - it's arsing hot in africa in a nylon tent, even at 8am... so the mrs dug me in the ribs and told me to open the tent up to let us get some bloody air, as the small space we had to breathe in was now definitely full of a peculiarly perfumed vapour..
so i unzipped the front, and threw the flaps back (so to speak) - took deep breath of the fragrant morning air - and nearly shat myself, as there before me was a full sized baboon. About 2 feet away. Snarling. And wanking. oh yes he was wanking, his arm was a blur and he appeared to be sweating whilst he thrashed one out. I froze for a moment, then realising that (a) i didn't want to see this (b) he didnt want me to see this and (c) i knew that bad things would happen if i ignored (a) or (b), i retreated into the tent toute suite and zipped it up. My GF, who had been purring in the light breeze entering the tent, sat up and demanded what exactly the fuck was i doing? So i told her i wasn't opening the tent yet, perhaps it'd be discreet to wait a moment. She, being the woman she is, called me a fuckwit and opened the tent up - only to return, ashen faced, immediately. I, having lit a cigarette, nonchalantly asked if he'd finished - she just shook her head...
About ten mins later, exit tent - no baboon, no monkey jizz... presumably the sound and odour of human love was similar enough to monkeylove to give him ape wood... although that's not a particularly edifying thought, that my best efforts are like a monkeyfucker...
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 9:23, Reply)
surprised shepherd...
i used to work at a shop that was located in a parade of shops, the 60s type with flats above. the shop next door was a chinese takeaway, and they used the flat as a stockroom and kept this German Shepherd locked in it 24/7 - poor blighter, even tho i hate alsatians.
anyway, one afernoon i was bounding up the stairs, into the flat above (which was my office), when the lad from the takeaway opened the door to their stockroom, and the dog slipped out past her, part-crazed after being locked up all the time. so, half way up a flight of concrete stairs, there i was face to face with an alsatian who, presumably after years of licking MSG, thought it was cerberus.... and flung itself at me and started biting whatever it could, the air, flies, and eventually my right leg. Bastard thing got thru my leather jeans and well into flesh - so the only thing i could do was punch it really hard between the eyes. This had the desired effect of making it let go, but it still wanted a piece of me, so came back for more. Now, old Ma2shoes didnt raise any idiots, what she did give birth to was a son who weas a prosthetic left leg from the knee down - which as the dog came back at me, jaws a-slavering for another chew, i shifted my position so aluminium leg was nearest to Jaws Of Death. Bingo - dumbass dog fastened onto my bit of NHS ironwork with a resounding clang, and started to gnaw away with a slightly surprised air, i like to recall - suprise turning to pain when i realised that the position i was in meant i could deal i the biggest kick to the bollocks I (or any other right thinking person) could imagine - enough to lift a full grown german shepherd a good couple of feet off the ground.
That seemed to get his attention, and back off, and at this moment the chinese lady came and grabbed it - and offered me money to keep quiet. I was at this point quite furious, so i told her to keep her money, just make sure the f**king dog was kept a bit more pleasantly... then she offered me free chinese food whenever i wanted it, for me and my mates that i worked with.
I always checked the dog was still alive before i eat there though...
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 8:17, Reply)
Bastard macaques
I keep digging up this traumatic stories from my subconscious... a few years ago my boyfriend and I were in India visiting his grandparents. The teeny little town where his grandparents lived was kept on a strict schedule of monkey visits on Mondays and Thursdays. They liked to come in from the wild to raid fruit trees in town. One Thursday morning, still slightly jet lagged, I woke up quite early and convinced the bf to go to the roof grandpa's house with me to enjoy the cool beauty of India at dawn.

And being ripped to shreds by monkeys. Don't forget that. There was a group of about ten of the fuckers crowded over by a fruit tree. The large, silver ones with black faces and long tails that they loop like a hula hoop when they run... they look cute like the flying monkeys in Wizard of Oz until you realize they're waist-high when they're sitting on their haunches.

They noticed us and started immediately walking towards us. "Oh shit", says I. "Not to worry" says the bf, and raises his fist like he's going to hit them and shouts. The monkeys pause, look at each other as if to say "What's this cunt doing, then?", and continue towards us, some of them baring their little monkey fangs. "That used to work a few years ago", says the increasingly terrified bf, who at this point has established himself as anyone but the Crocodile Dundee of the Subcontinent.

So we had to run and take sanctuary, in the most dignified manner possible, which of course means that we barricaded ourselves inside the outhouse. Between stealing peeks at the monkeys who were patiently waiting outside the door, I imagined being mauled to death by wild animals in a foreign land or spending a day of my life trapped in an Indian outhouse. Either way, not great.

Luckily, my boyfriend spotted his uncle wandering through the house through the crack in the outhouse door and shouted to him. Good old Uncle Laloo, the size of a bear, was shortly on the roof shouting and waving a big-ol' monkey-bashing stick around. Our hero! No apologies for length. Take it like a man.
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 6:45, Reply)
I was bitten....
By a feathered beast! (a big white duck) I was only 5, the evil bastard.
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 4:37, Reply)
I don't know what it is about me and dogs..
I mean, I've never done anything to them but they just seem to have it in for me. I've been bitten or attacked numerous times but the worst ones were having my arm savaged by a rottweiler when I was about 9 or 10 on holiday in Anglesey, and then when I was a student and went to investigate a rustling in our backyard/bin area - turned out to be a giant white devil dog that didn't take kindly to having its bin rustling disturbed and bit off half my knee in return (note to all: if you ever hear a rustling in your backyard - just bloody leave it). Dogs. Man's best friend? My arse.
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 3:31, Reply)
My mum was attacked by a horny dog,
but the neighbor who owned it seemed to think it was perfectly normal that her dog was shagging my mother's leg. It ended up tearing her pants on that leg to pieces and she had several deep claw marks. When my mother went over to ask the neighbor to get the dog's nuts chopped off for the sake of the many children who lived there, the neighbor refused then bought her an "I'm sorry" gift - a t-shirt with a dog humping a man's face, attached to a leash held by another man saying "he likes you". My mum still wears it from time to time.
(, Wed 8 Jun 2005, 3:16, Reply)

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