RJ's Infamous Groundhog Story

It was a typical Saturday afternoon for a 4th grade boy growing up on Georgetown road in Nazareth, PA. I called Jan, who lived just 4 doors down from me and asked her if she wanted to ride her BMX bike with me down to “the dirt trails”. The dirt trails were a series of hills composed of dirt (appropriately enough) where the local kids of the block would ride their BMX bikes. It was conveniently located just 3 minutes down the street from the two of us and it was a place that we would frequent to be daredevils and ride our bikes up and down the hills, sometimes even riding fast enough to jump and get a little air with our rudimentary bikes. The area that was once filled with weeds, grass, dirt hills and rocks is now a flourishing development of houses and cul-de-sacs (like most rural areas of the Lehigh Valley right now) – but I digress.

This Saturday was a particularly beautiful day. The sun was shining on a cloudless sky and the temperature was a very pleasant 75 degrees. It was late afternoon and the ride down to the trails was great. The smell of freshly cut grass lingered in the summer air as the wind blew briskly against our faces. We had a few jumps and rode around together before I decided to be adventurous and explore the outskirts of the trails by myself. (We often liked to split up and then re-join one another after a few minutes). I rode back to the grassy area of the trails and I noticed a rather large, fat groundhog walking in the grass. Like most boys would have done, I decided to park my bike and investigate the animal further. I chose a nice grassy spot to put down my kickstand and I got off the bike to go take a closer look at this cute animal. It had a beautiful brown coat of fur on it and it reminded me of my good ‘ole friend ‘Rusty Brown’, a hand puppet in the shape of a dog that I went to bed with every night. As I approached the groundhog from behind it didn’t seem to mind my company, in fact, it was as if it didn’t care about me at all. Although I noticed it was acting a bit strangely – wobbling back and forth, pausing momentarily, then moving on slowly, then it made an about face and started walking towards my BMX bike. I continued to follow, and as it walked past my kickstand it approached the front tire. All of a sudden it started to bite the front tire, as if to sharpen its teeth. I couldn’t believe its behavior, for all the other groundhogs I had seen up until this day ran off at the first sight of me. Well, after a few seconds it turned and walked on. I followed it, and it paused momentarily to look at me, but again, didn’t seem to mind my company. I remember thinking to myself, “This is the friendliest groundhog I’ve ever seen (save for it biting my tire, but I thought that it was just trying to impress me with its ability to gnaw)”. Well, I’m not sure why, but an idea popped into my head --- “I wonder if I could pet it?” Mind you, this was not among RJ’s brighter moments in life, but nevertheless, there it was.

So I walked behind it, snuck up on it and went for my pet. Just one stroke on that velvety brown fur would have satisfied my desire and would have made for an amazing story to tell Jan when I rode back to join her. So I stepped forward, leaned in and reached out my hand…. All of a sudden it turned without warning and lunged at my right ankle. With vicious speed and agility this seemingly innocent animal turned into a baby Cujo! It sunk it’s newly sharpened teeth deep into my ankle, biting straight through my long, knee high grey tube socks (with the 3 red striped at top). I screamed as I lifted my leg in the air, trying to free it from the grasp of my nemesis. While flailing my leg in the air its teeth remained firmly imbedded into my muscle as its body flew around in the air! Its feet were literally off the ground as I continued to scream feverishly shaking my leg to dislodge this terrifying creature! After what seemed like minutes, I shook my leg in such a way that its body moved to the front of my muddy sneaker and I was able to kick it in its belly! This maneuver flung the animal about 10 feet away from me. It rolled over 3 times, then got up, shook its head, and continued to wobble on slowly as if the entire encounter had never happened. I screamed for help, “Jan! Jan where are you?!!!” as a stream of blood trickled down my leg, my tube sock absorbing the remaining saliva of this troubled groundhog. “Jan!!!!” After a minute she sped over to me, rapidly riding her BMX bike beyond what would be an acceptable speed but knowing from the sound of my girlish shriek that an emergency had transpired.

“Oh my God R.J., what happened?”
“I got bit by a groundhog!”
“WHAT???”
“I got bit by a groundhog!!!” I said again as she now noticed the bloody ankle and the hole in my sock.
“Get on your bike and ride home to your mom right away!”
“I can’t!” I explained, “The groundhog bit the air out of my tire!!!!”
“Here, take my BMX bike and go now, Hurry!”
“Okay.”

As I rode home with unprecedented speed my heart was beating a million miles a minute. What would I tell my mom? She was always telling us kids not to play down in these dirt trails and I always thought to myself, “What could possibly happen? A fall and a little scrape of my knee?” But now I had really done it. What would I tell her? How would I get out of this? Why did I try to pet that thing?

I arrived home and opened the screen door with panic – not bothering to put the kickstand on Jan’s bike up, but just letting it fall in the grass. My mom was on the phone with the mangled phone cord stretching all the way from the dining room to the kitchen…

“Mom, mom!”
“Hang on RJ I’m on the phone.”
“But mom...!”
“What is it R.J.?”
“I got bit by a groundhog!” just then I turned my ankle to reveal the blood soaked tube sock and the bite marks in the skin of my ankle.
“Oh my God…Margie I need to call you back! What happened?”

As I explained the story to my mom she could hardly believe it, but it was true! --- a groundhog snuck up on me while I wasn't looking and bit my ankle while I was on my bike! (I know, I know, it was a tough one to pull off.) So my mom did what any good mother would do in times of a medical emergency, she called the family Doctor…

Dr. Hoch had been practicing medicine for probably about 250 years in the quiet little town of Nazareth. He moved slow, had grey hair, glasses and was the town’s General Practitioner (back in the days when they actually had General Practitioners and not specialized Doctors). To that day he had performed well checks on me, given me the occasional shot, made me embarrassed when I had to ‘pull down my pants for him’ and kindly rewarded me with a lollipop after my encounters with him. He had gained the trust of my mom (as well as the mothers of most of the town’s kin) especially after he gave her such good advice just a few years prior to this incident when I stepped on a corn stalk the day I walked down to the creek barefoot --- “Take him to the ER!” he told my mom with brilliant deduction. So my mom dialed the number and spoke to him on the phone. He listened to what she had to say, and then with confidence replied something to the effect of, “Hmm…I see….well….put ice on it and call me in a week if it swells up.” My mother hung up the phone and undoubtedly followed his sound advice. “It’s going to be ok RJ.”

A week later my ankle started to turn black and blue and my mother called Dr. Hoch back to ensure that everything was still ok. He told her to just watch it and that the bruising should go down eventually. My mother, being a very well trained LPN herself, thought this was a little odd and decided to call Easton Hospital for a second opinion…

It was 10:15 a.m. when I got called on by Mrs. McMennamen in class. I sat behind a rather large girl and this was to my advantage as I could rest my head on my crossed arms and go unnoticed when I needed to snooze. But this morning my teacher was on her game. As I sprung up I noticed there was a little bit of drool dripping down the side of my chin. She said, “Well? What’s the answer RJ?” I thought to myself, “What’s the question Mrs. McMennamen?” – but being the Teacher’s Pet I didn’t want to tarnish my good standing with her, so instead I opened my mouth about to let my mind come up with something, when suddenly, I heard a chorus of “Ooooooohhhhh”s coming from my classmates. To my surprise, my mother walked in the door and marched directly over to the teacher’s desk. My eyes almost bulged out of their sockets, since not once in all the days of attending elementary school had this occurrence transpired. She started to talk softly to the teacher as Mrs. McMennamen looked over at me. “What had I done?” “Was I in trouble?” “Was there a death in the family?” (the only reason I knew that a parent would enter the classroom mid-morning). The teacher said, “RJ pack up your things and come here please.” Again with the “Oooooooohhhhhh”s! My mom told me to follow her out and so we left promptly.

“What’s wrong mom?”
“I called the hospital. They said that from the description I gave, it sounds like that groundhog had Rabies.”
“So what?”
“SO if it was Rabid, we need to get you the vaccine!”
“So, no big deal.”
“If we don’t get the vaccine in your system within a certain period of time (7 days), it could be very bad (death)”
“It’s only been just over 6 days since it happened though.”

So we went to the ER of Easton Hospital and thus began one of the most traumatic childhood experiences of my life. That day I received a plethora of shots. Mind you, these were no ordinary needles. The Rabies Vaccine du jour consisted of a 6 month long series of shots, given in needles that were several inches long a piece. Each one that pierced my deltoid seemed to penetrate all the way down to my elbow. I screamed in agony when each one was administered. I cried and dreaded driving to the hospital each time. I would look away and hold my mom’s hand as the nurse had to be the one to lift up my sleeve, rub the alcohol pad over my shoulder and then jab me fiercely with her spear of death. And it seemed like there was a brand new nursing student to do it each time. It sucked! That first day I got several in the back, buttocks and shoulders (it was the year AFTER they switched from giving them in the stomach – Thank God!). I had to get one shot a day for the first week, then one shot every other day for the next few weeks, then once every 3 days, then once a week, then once every 2 weeks, then once a month, then finally, I was gifted with the last shot on my birthday, December 19th… What a present!

The repercussions of this dramatic story are two-fold; first, Groundhog Day has a special meaning for me and my family since it was because of a groundhog that I almost died (had the vaccine been started just 1 day later). Consequently, I will always have to endure a slew of groundhog jokes from my relatives on that day as well. And second, I developed a deathly fear of needles, which almost prevented me from going to Medical School and becoming a Doctor. I hate needles, hate the smell of alcohol pads, hate getting blood drawn, hate giving needles to others, hate it, hate it, hate it! So you can imagine my friend John’s expression after he volunteered to be my guinea pig on the “Medical School Student’s First Blood Draw Lab”. He looked at me and said, “Uh,…do ya mind stopping your hand from shaking before you put that needle into my vein?” Needless to say, I didn’t tell him ‘The Groundhog Story’ until AFTER I successfully drew blood from him ….on my 8th attempt! LOL.