When I was about 13
Some people up our road had 3 Scotts Terriers (I think that's what they're called - small and white anyway).

I was walking up the road minding my own business, and they came running out of the neighbours' house and surrounded me, snarling and yapping. Dog 1 came right up to my foot, so I gently kicked it away. Big mistake. Dog 2 was straight in there - he jumped at me, and grabbed a mouthful of flesh and tendon, just below my kneecap.

I shit you not, his teeth actually met, and there he was - a snarling, writhing ball of shit hanging from my knee. I was understandably going mental, running around and screaming - with dog still attached.

Eventually, after what seemed like a long time, the neighbours came running out. It took 2 of them - one to hold him still, and one to prise the little fucker's teeth apart. I then had to go to hospital for some stitches and a tetanus jab in my arse. That area of my knee is still numb after all these years.

The neighbour called me later, begging me not to call the police, which I didn't. I did let them sweat it out for a couple of days though. If I remember correctly, said dog got run over about 4 years later. Oh, boo fucking hoo.
(8-Ball, Thu 2 Jun 2005, 10:40, Reply)