Ken Vickers
Man’s best friend
I recently installed a PVC water line along the fenced in area in my back yard. I have a chocolate Lab, Fox. I didn’t like him but the family did so he was in like flint. They think he is human and treat him as such.
A few minutes after completing the water line project I looked out the kitchen window and saw the water pipe lying in the middle of the yard. Fox was lying beside it chewing it to pieces.
It was hot and the gnats were thick as I repaired the pipe. I thought to myself that surely Fox, this almost human dog, this beloved member of the family would see how angry I was and not destroy it again.
Five minutes after the repair was finished and I was back inside in the air conditioned cool and away from the gnats, I again glanced out the window and the pipe was back in the middle of the yard. Fox saw me at the window and watched me watching him chew the pipe into small pieces.
Now it’s personal. The dog is a devil. He hates me. I hate him. The dog must die. But how can I make it look like an accident?
The next morning, after a restless night plotting the accidental death and dismemberment of the devil sleeping in the corner of my bedroom, I was working in the yard. Fox, the devil, keeping me company at my wife’s insistence, was nearby chewing a remnant of PVC pipe. It was hot and every gnat in Georgia was there to torment me. I was lost in thought and momentarily out of sight of Fox when, from the corner of my eye, I saw movement to my left.
A strange and angry pit bulldog with hackles up was coming toward me at a dead run and I knew he meant business. I turned to face him down for I could not outrun him. I raised the rake I held in my hand as it was the only weapon I had and braced for the attack.
Just then Fox streaked by and he and the pit hit like two fullbacks.
The dogfight that followed is indescribable but in the end the pit was down and Fox was standing over him snarling a bloodied warning; leave now or die.
When released, the pit left in a hurry and Fox, exhausted and a bloody mess, limped over to me and lay down. He looked up at me and I could swear he smiled. He knew he’d won a tough fight against the pit, and for me, his master.
Fox has moved up to sleeping on the bed.
He is my dog now.
It was hot and the gnats were thick as I repaired the pipe. I thought to myself that surely Fox, this almost human dog, this beloved member of the family would see how angry I was and not destroy it again.
Five minutes after the repair was finished and I was back inside in the air conditioned cool and away from the gnats, I again glanced out the window and the pipe was back in the middle of the yard. Fox saw me at the window and watched me watching him chew the pipe into small pieces.
Now it’s personal. The dog is a devil. He hates me. I hate him. The dog must die. But how can I make it look like an accident?
The next morning, after a restless night plotting the accidental death and dismemberment of the devil sleeping in the corner of my bedroom, I was working in the yard. Fox, the devil, keeping me company at my wife’s insistence, was nearby chewing a remnant of PVC pipe. It was hot and every gnat in Georgia was there to torment me. I was lost in thought and momentarily out of sight of Fox when, from the corner of my eye, I saw movement to my left.
A strange and angry pit bulldog with hackles up was coming toward me at a dead run and I knew he meant business. I turned to face him down for I could not outrun him. I raised the rake I held in my hand as it was the only weapon I had and braced for the attack.
Just then Fox streaked by and he and the pit hit like two fullbacks.
The dogfight that followed is indescribable but in the end the pit was down and Fox was standing over him snarling a bloodied warning; leave now or die.
When released, the pit left in a hurry and Fox, exhausted and a bloody mess, limped over to me and lay down. He looked up at me and I could swear he smiled. He knew he’d won a tough fight against the pit, and for me, his master.
Fox has moved up to sleeping on the bed.
He is my dog now.
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