Have you ever been attacked by a wild animal? What was it like?
Are you kidding?
As much time as I have spent in the wild it would be odd indeed had I not been attacked by wild animals.
I have been, by several, on numerous occasions.
While turd hunting, late summers, at Salmon Creek, every time, just before dark, I would be mercilessly attacked by squadrons of malicious mosquitos. I would fight valiantly, even resorting to chemical warfare, yet invariably, I would be pushed back from the water's edge, away from prime turd territory, tending to my wounds and cursing the evil beasts.
More than once I was viciously attacked by angry crawdads in mid-stream. In broad daylight, mind you! I'm lucky to still have all my toes.
An unwarranted, unprovoked attack by what had to be ‘killer' bees atop Cave Ridge one summer. Relentless forays by rabid, irrational waves of meanness. Suicide missions all. They refused to negotiate. My entire squad was practically wiped out! (Except for Bait, who remained in his tent giggling like a schoolgirl.)
A pair of eerily intelligent hornets, or were they Yellowjackets? Chasing me over the most distant unexplored lava flows at Mt. St. Helens. Wounding me at every opportunity, they hounded me for miles...well...at least a hundred yards, until, at full gallop, I leaped blindly into a collapsed sink, about 10 feet across and 4 or 5 feet deep.
I eluded them by stumbling into an opening behind where I had just jumped. It led to a passage into what became the ‘Udotube', a previously undiscovered lava cave. Serendipity.
I was attacked and engaged in heated battle with a Hobo spider. It was the size of a small dog. Well, perhaps a small puppy...OK, OK...but it was mean, man!