Once, when I had a dog, I used to watch her and wonder what she was thinking. I wonder if it was this:
In short, yes.
In long, yes, and then the flea, assuming it survived the trauma, would continue on to limp towards the nearest phone booth and call a good big-city lawyer. The lawyer would come collect the flea and take notes on what exactly happened. Once those details have been hashed out, the lawyer would draft the conditions over which the flea is suing the dog.
After waiting about two years for the case to be heard in a court, the flea finally concedes to participate in mediation, which the dog suggested about a year and a half ago and the lawyer refused to advise on. Through the mediation they resolved their differences and actually became friends.
The mediator – a cat – actually got a good laugh and walked away with a nice paycheck.