You turn around and attempt to leave. The dog jumps up, much higher than you would have expected him to and bites your throat open. Blood pours out, much more blood than you've ever seen before. You fall to the floor. The last thing you see before you lose consciousness permanently is the small dog licking up blood from the puddles that are now slowly soaking into the no-longer-quite-so-grey carpet.

You are dead.

maybe you'd better go home.