After reading that, you don't even need to know the rest of the story, do you?
Meet my dog. We'll just call him Stupid. Stupid gets ridiculously aggressive and, well, stupid, when he sees other dogs outside. This means that three times a day when we walk him, we have to be extra cautious and aware of what's going on around us, and whether there are any other dogs encroaching on HIS space. Which, by the way, he defines much like they do in the Lion King. "Everything the light touches is MY kingdom." kind of thing.
Yesterday he saw a puppy and went apeshit. I yanked him backwards so hard that his front end came up and turned, and while his barking ass mouth was still open, he crashed into my chest on his way back down to meet mother earth. Barking dog, open mouth, big teeth, meet my right breast. Hello, nice to meet you. Hey, don't rip that nipple off! That's the abridged version of what happened.
The sensitive skin holding my lady parts together can only take so much, and quite literally ripped. Yes, he damn near ripped my nipple off. My darling husband came home shortly thereafter and administered first aid to my injury, and the fact that my ten year old picks out band aids means we have a limited selection available.
And this is why I have a bloody nipple covered in a Star Wars band aid.