Her kitchen spattered with blood, Marsha Ellen Meidow wasn't even sure her husband was still alive, as his assailant kicked and punched at his limp, unresponsive body.
And then the attacker, one of two strangers who'd burst through the front door in a violent, frenzied rage, bared his teeth and started biting the victim.
"He started biting him all over his body, like an animal, like a crazed, rabid pitbull," said Meidow, 33.
"I started screaming for help as loud as I could -- the biting took it to a whole other level, and I knew I had to make it stop.
"If they killed me for screaming, I thought that's the cost of trying to save someone I love."
A more random, pointless attack, it's hard to fathom.
It was 3:40 a.m. on Dec. 6, when the phone rang. The call was expected, despite the late hour.
Tank Standing Buffalo, 31, a respected Calgary artist and Meidow's husband, had found a cellphone in the back seat of a cab as he returned home from a night out with a male friend.
The cellphone's owner had dialed his own number, and after some good-natured ribbing about his lost phone, Standing Buffalo and Meidow told the man -- a friendly, good-humoured sounding person -- to come by and pick it up.
"If he hadn't sounded so friendly, we'd have never given him our address," said Buffalo, one eye still swollen and all but blind from the beating he endured.
The 3:40 a.m. call was the cellphone owner again, saying he'd found their street, but couldn't find the exact home.
Meidow leaned out the door of her southwest house, saw the two men down the road, and waved them over.
"A matter of seconds later, they smashed through the door, and it knocked me down -- so my husband and his friend came racing down from upstairs," said Meidow.
Standing Buffalo, no small target at 6-ft.-4, received a savage blow straight to the face from one of the men, who screamed at him, "Is it (expletive) funny now?"
Out cold, Buffalo was then dragged into the kitchen, where the main assailant kicked and punched him until he was caked in blood -- and then the thug started spitting on him.
"He punched him over and over and over again -- there was blood everywhere," said Meidow.
"Then he started spitting in his face."
Meidow says she's not sure whether it was drugs, alcohol or steroids fuelling the savage anger of the main attacker, a muscle-bound Caucasian, while his equally large partner kept Buffalo's male friend at bay.
Meidow's frantic screams finally broke off the assault, as neighbours rushed over, saying police had been called.
Before they ran into the night, the main aggressor told Meidow it wasn't over -- he'd be back to chop her head off.
Police apparently have suspects, but no arrests have been made. Knowing the attackers are still on the loose has forced the couple to split up, fearing the men may return.
The assault was over a week ago, and Standing Buffalo is now out of intensive care and laying low in Calgary.
Meidow, who left the city for the sanctuary of her mother's home out east, says she is struggling to sleep, and fighting to keep the violent images from haunting her days.
"I feel changed by this -- I've lost a little faith in humanity," she says, fighting back tears.
For Meidow to say that is a loss for all of Calgary -- just last year, she was presented with the YMCA Humanitarian of the Year Award for her work with victims of violence, as well as her role as producer and director of the Vagina Monologues.
Having touched hundreds of lives as a couple dedicated to helping others, some of that kindness will be repaid this Saturday, at the Studio Pub at 922 Centre St. N.
There, artists ranging from musicians to burlesque dancers and magicians are planning a public fundraising concert to help the couple stay afloat as they rebuild their lives, and find a new home where they'll feel safe.
Standing Buffalo, who is still sore and bruised, says he is most worried about the emotional damage done to his wife, having witnessed the violence.
"I think she got the worst of it," said Standing Buffalo.
Out east, Meidow says the cruelest blow is being apart from her husband, unable to afford having him join her.
"They've stolen Christmas from us."