Attacked by a Killer Octopus — in my House!
My father loved fishing in the ocean. When I was about 4, he built a 14-foot rowboat that he took out as far as the Farallon Islands, 26 miles off the coast California. One day he unintentionally caught an octopus and left it in the kitchen sink where it remained, alive. Fascinated, I climbed up on a chair to examine this sea monster in the sink. For some reason, having surely to do with being six or seven years old, I licked one of the octopus’ tentacles, covered with suckers as they are. And it attached itself to my tongue! I could not get it off. I was terrified! What if it pulled me into its beaky mouth and ate me?
My friend Billy was with me and, equally terrified, went for help. First my mother came but, pulling as hard my sore tongue could stand, she still could not get the thing off. I thought I was going to die there. Then my dad came home. He cut the tentacle from the octopus and when it was severed, the sucker released its grip on my tongue and I was free. Three hours in the grip of a sea monster, but I was saved! I don’t remember if we ate the octopus, but I hope we did.