Dysis, my dog, and I had a bit of excitement this morning. Honestly, I don’t want excitement during my morning dog walk. I want boring. Quiet and boring is even better. But apparently the pit bull that lives on the last ¼ mile of our walk had other plans. She launched out of a yard, came across the street, and charged at us.
At first I dealt with it as before. I stood her off, with my leather sap in my hand just in case. She wouldn’t attack me, but it was pretty clear that she wanted a piece of Dysis. I don’t like the fact that my dog gets hauled around on her choke chain as I try to keep her behind me and away from the pit. She’s on her leash and being a good dog, why should she suffer? I called the cops once I was sure she was planning on staying on what I thought was her property. She was still barking up a storm, which the 911 operator could hear. Then I backed away and took Dysis home.
I was so mad about this dog that I dropped the dog off at home and went back to point the dog out to the cops when they got there. They never came. I sat on the curb across the street. The dog barked and barked at me, but wasn’t interested in attacking me. Tail was low, wagging from 5 o’clock to 7 o’clock. Not friendly, but not a dominant dog about to attack. Also not a terrified dog about to defend herself. I probably sat on the curb for 20 minutes trying to get the dog to come closer. It was about 7:15 am when I suddenly remembered that I actually had to work this morning, which was why I was up at 5:30AM to walk the dog instead of waiting until a reasonable hour.
While I was sitting there, waiting for the cops, one of the neighbors came out to get her morning paper. She thought the dog had cornered me and started yelling at it to go home. I reassured her that I was fine and got her to tell me which house she lived at. It wasn’t the house I originally thought, nor was it the house she was in front of the second time. It was the house in the middle. She evidently thought she owned the whole street.
So there I am, waiting for the cops, with a dog barking at me and I realize that I don’t have all day, I’m actually going to be late for work if I don’t shake a leg. So I thought, “let’s see if I can knock on the owner’s door.” I got up, making the dog run and bark. Then I got to the property and looked at the dog. If she’s going to attack, this is when it’s going to happen, as I invade her territory. She actually got quieter. I walked up the driveway. No problems. I got up to the front door and she ran past me to get up the steps. No barking. In fact, she must have decided that I was an invited guest, so she demanded petting. She’d been barking at me for 20 minutes, but when I went up to her front door, she decided she wanted to be friends. How strange.
When no one answered my knocking, I took her around the side and let her back into her back yard. Yay, problem solved, right? I called the police and let them know the dog was corralled in her yard, and suddenly she was back over the fence barking at me as I walked down the street. Sigh.
With the cops on the way and no way to keep the dog contained, I called my wife, woke her up, and asked her to bring the spare leash to me. Poor woman didn’t really want to be dragged out of bed at 7:30 on a Sunday morning, but she came. The dog thought she was a threat and started barking at her, protecting me. Silly dog. My wife tossed me the leash and I put it on the dog. She didn’t seem to mind.
This still leaves me with the “well now what?” problem. I can’t leave, I can’t stay, and I can’t dump it off on my wife while I go to work. So I took her home. Since I was leaving with the dog, I called the police a third time to let them know what was happening. I walked the ¼ mile home with the dog, tied her to my front porch, and jumped in the shower. Of course, I was still wet when the policeman finally showed up. I handed the dog off to the cop, told the story, and jumped in the car. I was only 4 minutes late to my first appointment, well within the margin of error. Of course, I didn’t get breakfast.
So, no dogs dead. No people injured. No police officers shooting any attacking pit bulls. I’ve done my good deed for the day, but I’ll bet that the owner, when they find him, will still be pissed at me. He can kiss my butt.
You can follow the antics of my dog, Dysis, on her Facebook page.