a reply to: deadlyhope
When I was eight years old, I lived in a house which had a back yard, which backed onto a wide, mud and hardcore alleyway. Most folks had wide back
gates on their yard, or a garage directly onto the alley. Few people parked their cars in those garages, or through those gates, because the alleyway
itself was rough, often littered with fly tipped scrap metal, abandoned bikes, car parts, loose masonry and other assorted detritus, none of which was
all that accommodating to car tires.
It's undulating surface would either be a dusty, dry stretch during summer, or a mud bath during autumn, spring or winter. I used the alley often, on
the way home from school. I also used it occasionally when going out on, or coming home from a ride on my little blue BMX. One particular day, I came
home from school on foot, and passed a particular fence, a few gardens back from my own. A dog, a large one was barking and growling behind it. I
walked on. I heard a ripping, tearing noise, wood splintering and cracking. I looked over my shoulder to see a muzzle, locked around a fence panel,
chomping it to bits.
I began to walk faster. The sound of several fence panels breaking apart issued from behind me, and I knew that the dog was now free. I was not close
enough to our back yard to gain access to it, and even if I had been, we were poor, and could not afford to fence our yard at the back. There was no
where to run. I looked toward the noise, and sure enough, a dog was pacing toward me, growling, barking its deep bark. It was a squat, thick legged
thing, some kind of Staffordshire cross with something...
It only stopped pacing slowly, when it bowled into a dead sprint, running right at me growling all the way. I dropped my backpack, bent my knees just
a little, and just as the dog leapt at my head, I stepped sideways and kicked it straight in the testicles. It's speed as it passed where my head had
been was such, that it skidded about eight feet when it landed, and while it was not under control, I snatched up my pack, and ran for my back door.
Fumbling with my keys, I looked down my garden, to see the dog waddling, slowly and carefully back toward its own house.
I never had a problem with that dog again. Understand, I actually love animals and always have. From spiders to snakes, from cats to dogs, animals
are generally my friends, but this animal wanted my face in its mouth. I never would have lashed out if it had not have been for my life. I should
also point out that I have met many Staffs and Staff crosses which were total sweethearts, soppy as you like, and would never hurt a fly worth a damn.
But there are times where you have to go with your gut, especially when your gut says "for all your science, you will have to fight, not think your
way out of this one".