A Guard Dog Named Duke
Duke was a mixed breed, a short rough haired dog who looked rather like a Golden Lab. He'd been JT's constant companion while we were building the house, and I've already written about some of their exploits. But, a few others are just Dukes.
Duke was still only a half grown pup when he came out of the woods one day all bloody. One ear was torn and his nose and muzzle had been riped open. There were also cuts on his chest and legs. The vet said it looked like he'd tangled with a coon, and if that was the case, he was lucky to be alive. We knew of two ponds and a creek within a half mile or so, so we believed the vet was right. But, this didn't end with one episode. Twice more our young dog came home with more battle wounds. We'd never had to tie him up, but this seemed to be a good time to start. Except that when he wanted loose, he'd just break the chain and take off. Even though each time, W bought a heavier chain. Then, shortly after he'd gained his full size and bulk, (and was breaking 500 pound test weight chains) he proudly carried his dead trophy home and dropped it at W's feet. It was the biggest coon I'd ever seen. W was so proud of our mutt, he saved the skull and showed it off to everyone who would look at it. W's six foot tall with long fingers. With the nose of that skull at the tips of his fingers, the back of the skull reached almost to his elbow. It took Duke a half year and scars he carried all his life; which greatly added to his ferocious look, but he earned his trophy.
Still his animosity only extended to other animals. He was a big mutt who loved people. W worked a swing shift in a factory and I was alone with the boys one night when a rock came through the bedroom window over the garage. Mine, thank goodness, not JT's. I'd heard them pull in the driveway. I'm the one who doesn't turn on the lights when something wakes me up. I feel that gives me the advantage, because with a light on, they could see me and I still wouldn't see them. Even an outside light would alert them to my presence and I'd lose my advantage. This car had at least four young men and possibly more. They were obviously very drunk and out believing they were having fun. I had already phoned the Sheriff before the rock broke my window. That gave me my first real fear, and I decided it was time to get W's gun. I was worried that the group would split up and I couldn't cover all sides of the house. The Sheriff's office had already warned me not to shoot anyone until they came into the house, or I'd be the one in trouble. Yeah, right! But, these drunks weren't interested in the house and they stayed together. Duke was tied up just below the driveway and his growling and barking seemed to be holding their attention. It was just too dark to actually see what was going on. Duke wasn't growling anymore and the commotion out there seemed to be turning into a party again. Then I heard a car door open and turned in time to see Duke getting into their car with them! Some watchdog! They took him with them and headed down the road again!
When the Sheriff's Deputies finally arrived, they took my report and said these guys had been stopping at every 4th or 5th house. They never entered a house, but threw rocks through windows and when they found a car outside, they damaged it. I was mad. If those Deputy's knew the route, which should be obvious after a few call ins, why didn't they go on down the road and catch them. No, they stopped at each call in, took the report and went on to the next. It was obvious to me that they didn't want to meet the drunks.
Our Duke was the only one to join them. The next morning the Sheriff returned Duke to us. They had left him in the country store at the village about 6 miles away, where they stole more beer and cigarettes. But, they were never caught. Duke was the only witness, and he wasn't talking.
Duke was still only a half grown pup when he came out of the woods one day all bloody. One ear was torn and his nose and muzzle had been riped open. There were also cuts on his chest and legs. The vet said it looked like he'd tangled with a coon, and if that was the case, he was lucky to be alive. We knew of two ponds and a creek within a half mile or so, so we believed the vet was right. But, this didn't end with one episode. Twice more our young dog came home with more battle wounds. We'd never had to tie him up, but this seemed to be a good time to start. Except that when he wanted loose, he'd just break the chain and take off. Even though each time, W bought a heavier chain. Then, shortly after he'd gained his full size and bulk, (and was breaking 500 pound test weight chains) he proudly carried his dead trophy home and dropped it at W's feet. It was the biggest coon I'd ever seen. W was so proud of our mutt, he saved the skull and showed it off to everyone who would look at it. W's six foot tall with long fingers. With the nose of that skull at the tips of his fingers, the back of the skull reached almost to his elbow. It took Duke a half year and scars he carried all his life; which greatly added to his ferocious look, but he earned his trophy.
Still his animosity only extended to other animals. He was a big mutt who loved people. W worked a swing shift in a factory and I was alone with the boys one night when a rock came through the bedroom window over the garage. Mine, thank goodness, not JT's. I'd heard them pull in the driveway. I'm the one who doesn't turn on the lights when something wakes me up. I feel that gives me the advantage, because with a light on, they could see me and I still wouldn't see them. Even an outside light would alert them to my presence and I'd lose my advantage. This car had at least four young men and possibly more. They were obviously very drunk and out believing they were having fun. I had already phoned the Sheriff before the rock broke my window. That gave me my first real fear, and I decided it was time to get W's gun. I was worried that the group would split up and I couldn't cover all sides of the house. The Sheriff's office had already warned me not to shoot anyone until they came into the house, or I'd be the one in trouble. Yeah, right! But, these drunks weren't interested in the house and they stayed together. Duke was tied up just below the driveway and his growling and barking seemed to be holding their attention. It was just too dark to actually see what was going on. Duke wasn't growling anymore and the commotion out there seemed to be turning into a party again. Then I heard a car door open and turned in time to see Duke getting into their car with them! Some watchdog! They took him with them and headed down the road again!
When the Sheriff's Deputies finally arrived, they took my report and said these guys had been stopping at every 4th or 5th house. They never entered a house, but threw rocks through windows and when they found a car outside, they damaged it. I was mad. If those Deputy's knew the route, which should be obvious after a few call ins, why didn't they go on down the road and catch them. No, they stopped at each call in, took the report and went on to the next. It was obvious to me that they didn't want to meet the drunks.
Our Duke was the only one to join them. The next morning the Sheriff returned Duke to us. They had left him in the country store at the village about 6 miles away, where they stole more beer and cigarettes. But, they were never caught. Duke was the only witness, and he wasn't talking.
posted by LeeAnn | 11:49 AM
2 Comments:
So glad you are back and adding to your stories.
It seams to me that Duke had bushes of fun.
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