In the end it was my toddler that bit me, not my pit-bull.
I discovered a few months ago that Wally and my once-and-future-past dog Sky are actually the same person. For example, would you be able to tell which one I was talking about if I said, "Cannot be confined" or "Eats off floor"? How about:
Most often described as "high energy", "rambunctious" and "a handful".
Takes up our entire bed.
Easy on road trips.
Runs at full-speed every opportunity.
Super high pain threshold.
Sometimes scares people.
Takes a nap every day.
Knocks things over.
Makes inhuman, high-pitched noises.
Then again only one of them bites, and it's not the one who descended from a wolf. (He's stopped doing this, thankfully. In the past, when he did, and I'd whisk him into the stroller and take him home, this line would go through my head. I thought maybe it'd be a good opening to a short story. In the end it was my toddler that bit me, not my pit-bull.)
Oh, and here are a few pieces of photographic data which contradict above theory, but in the days of Photoshop and given the generally-agreed upon Principle of Newborn Indistinguishability, I'd say they're inconclusive at best.