Dog Bites

I'm not sure why, but Uncle D and Aunt M left their dog at Granddads farm one time. They could have been on vacation, or someone in the hospital or something. The dog was a border collie named Jack. This animal didn't like me. I can't imagine that I ever did anything to him. I loved animals. He was bad tempered around others too, but he just plain didn't want me around. I couldn't go out in the yard alone and one day he bit me even though Granddad was walking right beside me. So, one week when I was visiting, Jack had to be tied. I'm sure that made me even more of an enemy in the dogs mind. Because later when Dad took me with him to see D about something, I had a real run in with Jack. I still have a full one inch scar on my left arm above my elbow. (Yup, I just measured it.) Jack was tied at his dog house when we got there. I stayed way back far away from him. My cousins, D Jr. and J were still pretty small. I don't think little J had even been born yet. The boys and I were playing hide and seek in the barn. There was a long hall like area leading to the silo. I was in that confined space when Jack came out of nowhere and lunged at my throat. I had my arms up to protect my face and I was screaming and struggeling to keep my feet under me. His growls were loud and seemed right in my ear. It was probably the most terrifing moment of my life. Uncle D seemed to come out of nowhere and leaped through an open window to save me. My arm was punctered and torn, but he hadn't managed to bite me anywhere else. The puncture marks have faded and disappeared, but a tear scar is still very visable. It was the second unprovoked attack on me by Jack. Mom wanted the dog put down. She was pretty upset when it was decided that Jack was just trying to protect the boys. I don't know how long they kept Jack, but their next dog was another border collie named Jill. She never bothered me. I've been bitten twice more by dogs, but neither was what could be called an attack. Another bite was at the maternal Grandparents house. I'd been given a sandwich to eat and was sitting on the front steps with it. A neighbors dog was wanting some of my sandwich and I kept pushing him away. He wasn't aggressive. Then when my hands were busy feeding my face the dog lunged and tried to eat the sandwich right out of my mouth. He bit my lip and chin. That one scared me too and it hurt, but it healed without leaving a scar. The last time I was bitten was by a very sneaky sly hound. He actually greeted me when I got out of my car at a neighbors when I was grown with kids. He wagged his tail and I patted him on the head. Then walked past him to join a neighbor who was waiting at her door. Once he was behind me, that beast actually grabbed my leg and bit. I've never known a dog to act like that. The neighbor actually laughed and said he'd done it before. But, she hadn't warned me and it was the last time I visited or acted neighborly with them. She did offer to buy me a new pair of pants, but didn't even ask if the skin was broken. It was, and it bled and I left. Some neighbors are better left along.

When my youngest son was born and still a baby, I took a part time job with the county directory. It was my job to go around to the folks in my township and update the new County book that would be printed next. I was payed for each page I filled out. A page for each house and each landmark. So many pennies for each house. So many pennies for landmarks, like bridges and empty houses. The more pages, the more money. (They called me to work when they updated again. I'd submitted more "landmarks" than anyone ever had. ) I was suppose to go around in the car and not phone anyone. I met a lot of dogs and spent a lot of time in my car and barely made enough to pay for my gas. And, back then, gas wasn't even expensive. I bring this up now because it's one of these dogs I remember. I was in a part of my township that I wasn't familiar with. Most of the contacts I'd talked to were outside in fields or gardens or came out to talk to me. There were just a few questions and mostly I didn't go in houses because I had my young son, T in the car. So most folks talked outside with me where we could see T. I pulled up to a house trailor one afternoon when T was asleep in the back seat. It didn't look like anyone was around, but I got out and went to the door. I had barely reached the door when a huge St. Bernard came bounding and barking from somewhere in back. He stopped about 15 feet from me and sat down. The hair was up on his neck, but he just sat there watching me. I talked to him a bit and he quit barking, but he didn't move or relax. When I knocked on the door, he growled. When I pushed the doorbell, he growled. No one came and I needed to return to my car. But, the dog was sitting between me and my car. Each time I took a step, he moved a step closer and growled. There wasn't enough distance between us for me to try another direction to get to the car. I backed back up to the stoop, and stayed there. I remember our Treasure doing the same back on our farm. When she wasn't there soon enough to keep anyone from getting out of the car, she would keep them in one spot till someone came along to save the poor soul. Now I was the poor soul. And to make matters worse, I had a baby in the car who could wake up any minute. Actually it wasn't any minute. T woke up about a half hour later and the situation hadn't changed. Except that the dog had let me sit on the stoop. He wasn't at all aggressive, as long as I stayed put. But if I made any move to leave he turned very aggresive. We had both settled into more comfortable positions and it was a standoff. Till my baby started crying. This brought me and the dog to our feet. He kept looking back at my car, but he still would not let me move toward it. I was getting desperate when, Thank All That's Good, someone came home. Saved! The owner was very sorry and full of apology and couldn't understand how their pet had gotten loose. He was suppose to be tied up. They said they had never know him to act that way. He had bitten others and was kept tied on a heavy chain. Here was another dog who only wanted to guard what was his. And by remembering the time we came home to find an acquaintance sitting in our kitchen drinking our milk and waiting for us because Treasure wouldn't let him go back to his truck, I believe I was saved from a St. Bernard. I'm just grateful his master came home when he did. T and I were fine and I wasn't bitten that day.

By the way, Treasure made a lot of people nervous and not many ever wanted to see if she meant it. When she thought it was necessary, she could grab an arm or hand and hold on. The pressure would increase so they believed they would be bitten, but I only know of her breaking skin once. Especially on purpose. My Uncle D told us she was all bluff and he kicked her to show her who was boss. Treasure never did forgive him, and he was bitten. Someone had to lock her away from him every time he came. But she was very obedient when we told her stop with anyone else. Once she knew we accepted someone, she was fine as long as we were home. But, we were often told that no one dared get out of their vehicle when we were gone. Of course my brothers loved to tell her to "gethim" and she would hold someone till they told her to stop. This was their favorite way to win the football games in our yard. Even the neighbor boys they played with all the time never dared to pull away when Treasure had hold.

She was the perfect guard dog. But, she did have one small fear. Treasure hated thunder and lightning. Dad's favorite story about her involved a friend who came to cut silage. This man was very afraid of Treasure, but he was also afraid of thunder. They were working on the silage when a bad storm started. The only cover was the truck. Mr. G ran for the truck and opened the door to jump in. But, before he could get in, Treasure pushed past and climbed in the truck. Mr. G hesitated climbing in with her till another thunder sounded close. That did it. He climbed in the truck and Dad said they sat cowering in oposite corners watching each other till it was safe to get out. I don't remember Dad ever calling Treasure worthless. If nothing else she was good for teasing Mr. G about.