It didn't kill me, but it wasn't fun. Still, since it was a choice between the new dog and the beloved boy who had been living with me for ten years, the decision was easy in its way. Hell, I lost the use of a finger and Bandit lost his left ear to that little adventure. And the cats were too scared to come inside the whole time Zach was here. I think we all suffer from a little PTSD as a result of that interlude.