Why wasn’t it scary?

Posted: 20 J0000007UTC 2011 in Entertaining
Tags: , , , , ,

Oxygen deprivation… that’s what happened to me tonight. I have various duties in my job, one of them performing as a giant dog in a wheelchair a few times a week (no joke).

The show is called Raggs, a group of canine friends who formed a rock group (nice for some four and five-year old dogs huh?).

Towards the end of tonight’s show, the helmet padding in my head became loose and slid down in front of my face. There’s already a limited amount of oxygen in the costume, and this about shut off my supply. I thought to myself, “A bit more to go, and then I’ll be able to see and breathe again, so I’ll suck it up.”

Suck it up, I did. A bit too much carbon dioxide and too little oxygen exchange. At the end of the show, those of us in dog costumes usually have handlers to help us take the costume off. We were rather short-staffed tonight, and somehow, being no one’s fault in particular, I got left on stage, in darkness. I attempted to take my hands out with the “emergency velcro wrist release”, but that did little good, because I still couldn’t manage to get the head off.

I dropped out of the wheelchair and attempted to crawl to where I thought people would be. My vocal cords are paralyzed for some reason, so it’s not as though I could have yelled for help because no one would have heard.

I crawled too far. Eventually, probably about five minutes later, someone found me backstage and helped me get out of the costume. There was a cut on my wrist, likely from my attempt at getting out of the costume via the velcro wrist openings.

The whole time when I had barely any breath in me, I wasn’t scared. I didn’t panic until other people started to panic about me. It’s not supposed to be that way… is it?

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