When I was a young lad, I shot a red tail hawk that was using our chicken yard as a snack bar. I crippled it, but didn't kill it. I then foolishly walked up and kicked the hell out of it, wearing sneakers. It did a backwards roll, then hopped forward, and latched onto my foot with it's talons. Imagine 8 6-penny nails being inserted into your foot......
I nearly beat my lower leg and foot to a pulp with a cattle stick, trying to get it off.
My father thought the whole episode quite hilarious........
"Life is a bitch. Shit happens. Adapt, improvise, and overcome. Acknowledge it, and move on."