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Dogs!

July 10, 2012

I guess anyone whose job takes them from house to house has had encounters with dogs. I had a few of my own in the early days working as a juvenile parole officer. The following actually happened to me one day.
I was hired to work a one man field office. It had been unmanned for several months due to budget concerns. Brand spanking new to this particularly territory, I was out in a rural area of my assigned turf trying to track down some parolees who had not been contacted for some time. Both of them lived in close proximity in a rural area I had never even driven through before.
I found the first house after asking for directions several times.

I found the first house at the end of a dry and dusty, red clay road. It looked fairly decent, a small bungalow of sorts atop a raised slab that was extended in front to make a nice front porch. Most of the house was in the shade having been placed near a massive oak. I noticed the dogs in the front yard, more dirt than grass. The first was a huge, wooly white thing, soiled from head to toe. The second was a black, short haired, mixed breed, one of those solid looking combinations, part this and part that. Both stayed put but eyed me as I got ont of the car.

I walked almost half way to the porch when the black one suddenly took exception to my intrusion. It charged at me to within a yard or so, barking and snarling to beat the band. I turned to meet it and for a while we stood face to face. I could feel my heartbeat crank up a beat. This SOB meant business!

I considered making a run for the porch but dismissed the idea fearing that I might lose a huge chuck of my calf in the process. Instead I slowly backed toward the house with the angry dog following step by step. When I reached the steps, I turned and jumped up to the porch as quickly as I could and ran to the front door. The dog made the same leap, closed the gap, and stopped inches away from my legs. I liked to wet myself!

I started beating on the door and hollering like a banshee. The dog backed off one step but held it’s ground. I was trying to figure out what I would do if no one was home, when I spied the other dog  rise painfully and stroll to my car. There, he proceeded to piss on both the front and the rear tires, as if to express exactly what he thought of me.

Obviously I couldn’t stay where I was all day. I had to get out of there. I was set to try backing off again, although the dog was now between me and the steps, when I heard a woman scream!

“N—-! N—-! Get!  I’ll kill you! You stupid SOB!” “N—-!

I thought someone was coming after me, but that didn’t make sense. Still, I tightened up good when she rounded the corner of the house using words unfit for any society, polite or not.  But it was the dog that answered to that name. It bolted past me, jumped off the porch in a single bound, and fled head-long into the woods as fast as his legs could carry him.

Her son was working in another state. I would discharge him ASAP. For one thing was certain, I wasn’t coming back here. I hit the road, Jack , knowing that I wouldn’t come back no more, no more.

There was no one at home at the second home either. I knew that for certain because I laid on the horn for ten minutes, just to be sure. I decided to leave a note and have them call me. Unfortunately, the horn had attracted five beautiful hounds who were excitedly bouncing all over the place including the roof and hood of my car. I figured they were harmless and got out. Mistake! They loved me to death. They followed me to the house and back leaping, lapping, and licking me like I was their long lost friend. I took stock in the safety of my car. My sport coat was about ruined. One pocket was hanging loose and the entire garment was covered with dog foot prints in red clay. My shirt tail was hanging out and shredded. My hair was a mess and my cheek was scratched. I couldn’t even recognize my pants.

I vowed never to go back there again either. Thankfully I had cause. I learned later that that boy had run away months ago. I didn’t blame him. I figured he looked like I did when I left. Maybe he didn’t have any clothes at all. I ditched the required sport coat and tie. I dressed down considerably thereafter. I figured that if I ever got caught by my boss, I could take him out and introduce him to the hounds.

From → Child Abuse

2 Comments
  1. Respect to website author , some good selective information . 825879

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