A few weekends ago, my dog bit me. In his defense, it was dark and I had tackled him unexpectedly to stop him from walking off our under-construction, railing-less deck. It hurt, but at the time I didn’t realize how critical my next actions would be. It was late, I had house guests, and I decided to dress the wound myself. But by the following afternoon, my hand was in clear need of professional medical attention—and antibiotics—fast.