Thedoghad
bittenoff
mynose,
torna hole
inmyface
’
Before...on
thedayof
theattackMeandMo– I’m
stilla dogpersonSEE
UK.GOFUNDME.COM/UPXRM8-THE-GIRL-WITHOUT-A-NOSE.
WORDS:
JAMES
HANMAN,
SHARON
KEEBLE
GORE AND BRAVERY
10
When I first saw my face
in that hospital mirror,
I didn’t want to carry on...^
Gabrielle Myers, 29A
rriving at my
mate’s house party,
I felt a double dose
of excitement.
Not only was
there a night of fun
and games to enjoy, but he’d
also just got a new dog – an
American pit bull called Caine.
As an animal lover, I couldn’t
wait to meet him.
It was 11 June 2017, and
my friend already had a pit
bull called Clyde.
I knew that the breed had
a reputation for violence (it is
illegal in the UK but not all
parts of the US, where I live),
but I wasn’t convinced.
I just didn’t believe any pup
was born bad. Besides, I’d
known Clyde for four years- he was friendly and playful.
Plus I had two dogs of
my own and one of them –
Chevy – was a cross between
an American pit bull, a
Labrador and a boxer.
Sure enough, Caine was
a lovely boy – 2 years old, and
already as big as Clyde.
But I could tell he was a
softy, rolling over to let me rub
his belly and stroke his ears.
Very soon, the party was in
full swing. I had a few drinks,
enjoyed catching up with
my friends.
By 1am, it was time to go,
so I nipped to the loo before
setting off.
As I came out of the
bathroom, Caine greeted me.
‘Hi, boy,’ I smiled to him,
giving his fur a gentle ruffle.
Then I saw Clyde sauntering
towards me.
He looked as if he wanted
attention, too, and I
gestured for him to
come for a cuddle.
At 5ft 2in, I was
small enough for
either dog to put
their front paws
on my shoulders,
if they stood up
on their hind legs.
Caine was
resting on my
shoulders when
Clyde suddenly jumped up.
But as he did, I noticed his
huge jaws opening. Suddenlytime seemed to be moving in
slow motion.
Clyde was baring his
massive teeth, moving right
towards my face.
In a split second, I knew that
something was very wrong, and
I tried to pull away.
But I wasn’t quick enough.
I felt the hound’s teeth sink
into my skin and his gigantic
jaws engulf my face.
Everywhere,
from my forehead
to my chin, was in
his vice-like grip.
As pain and
fear coursed
through me,
I let out a blood-
curdling scream.
Eventually,
Clyde let go and
I staggered back,
holding my face
but somehow managing to stay
on my feet.
Shaking, I could see Clydecircling me, but Caine stood
between us.
Then both dogs wandered
off, as my friends raced in.
My vision was blurred by
blood, but I could see their
horrified looks.
‘Someone call an ambulance,’
a voice called as I was helped
to my feet.
On instinct, I reached up,
touched my injured face.
And I couldn’t feel my nose!
Clyde had bitten it clean off,
torn a hole in my face.
Despite the searing pain,
I managed to think rationally.
‘Find my nose, get it on
ice!’ I wailed.
Lurching to the kitchen sink,
I saw the huge pool of blood
beneath me.
That’s when I began to feel
light-headed.
I’ve lost too much blood,
I thought, in panic.
Convinced that I wouldn’t
make it, I started making
rambling goodbyes.
‘Tell my family
I love them,’ I begged
my friend Kelly.
‘Gabby, you’re
not going to die,’
she replied, holding
my hand tight.
I was airlifted to
St Vincent’s Hospital
in Indianapolis,
and rushed off for
emergency surgery.
As I had alcohol in my
system, I couldn’t have
a general anaesthetic,
and I became very
distressed a number
of times during the op.
In the end, the
surgeons restrained me- and afterwards, I was
put in an induced coma.
Two days later, I came