Dog on Dog Crime

 

 

Something shocking happened to our family on Tuesday. Our gentle, five-year-old Jack Russell mix Charlie was a victim of dog on dog crime.

 

Patch is Charlie’s designated walker. We give her a $2 allowance every time she takes him on a twenty-minute walk. She mixes the route up regularly to keep him guessing and keep ever new scents and smells available to his inquisitive nose. Sometimes he gets two walks a day, sometimes none, but he probably averages ten walks a week, which is perfect for his size and temperament.

 

He has not, however, acclimated too well to new humans and new – rather, any – dogs. Might be our fault when he was a pup. He’s all bark and no bite, and when someone new enters the house he’s all bark for a good hour or so. Out in the world beyond our front door, he dissolves into a neurotic mess when in range of most fellow canines.

 

But there are exceptions. There’s a big golden retriever who lives behind a fence along one of their routes. Whenever Charlie walks by with Patch in tow, the golden pokes its snout out a hole and they sniff each excitedly. Our neighbor has a dog and my daughter walks two other dogs in the house behind us (a Doberman named Blitz and a pitbull named King), so he’s somewhat used to their smells. There’s also an aged corgie that makes the rounds as well as a giant puffy longhaired dog and another white and brown mix who could be Charlie’s uncle in the neighborhood.

 

Charlie has gotten along well, as well as can be expected, when the occasional passing-by happens on his walks.

 

Now, back to last Tuesday.

 

Patch took him out in the fading daylight, which happens around 5:45 here. She took him on a new walk on the roads behind our house. Someone was unloading groceries from their car parked on the street, and as the door to the house was opening and closing, an overly excited brown critter burst out and charged headlong towards our Jack Russell mix, pacing along the sidewalk blissfully unaware.

 

Patch was caught off guard. Charlie had no idea what was coming and was completely blindsided. The maniacal dog, larger and darker and angrier than Charlie, pounced on him and began the tussle.

 

My phone rang a few moments later and Patch was on the other end, breathing heavily, in a tone halfway between crying and hysteria. I pieced out what happened listening to her rapid fire outbursts: The dog jumped on top of Charlie, bit into him several times on the back. Charlie retreated, making noises Patch has never heard him make before. The dog flipped Charlie around, clamping down on Charlie’s hind leg. My daughter struggled to maintain control of Charlie’s leash and to separate our boy from this crazed animal. It was all over in seconds as the owners raced from the house to separate the two dogs and get theirs under control.

 

They asked if our dog was all right. In the fading light Patch gave him a once over and he seemed okay, aside from his weird barking. I told her to come immediately home and she replied that she was only a few minutes away. After she left the house holding the wild dog another adult left his truck and made sure she and her dog were okay, which Patch confirmed.

 

Gentlest boy in the world ...

Once inside the safety of our house we examined Charlie. He had two blood marks on his spine but no bleeding. His right rear leg, however, was the bloodiest part of him. We separated out fur as best we could to get to skin but did not see any serious bleeding – and by serious I mean no signs of continuous blood flow. If there was such an emergency we’d have called his vet and their voicemail system would have detailed instructions on who to call and where to take him. Plus we have catastrophic insurance out on him, so that would not be an issue.

 

We decided not to tell my wife until she got home from work. Did not want her to get into an accident or possibly be ticketed for speeding or running red lights. Charlie is, after all, her third child.

 

We babied him more than normal the rest of the night. He seemed a little dazed and not himself the rest of the evening, but recovered somewhat the following day. By the weekend he returned to full normalcy: not afraid to go out for walks, wanting to play “tuggy” and fetch with his rubber bone, and eating as usual.

 

My wife, however, immediately ordered a small can of pepper spray from Prime to affix to the leash and gave instructions for Patch to use it on any animals – dog or human – looking to mess with Charlie – or her – out on their walks.

 

We dodged a bullet, and I would urge any one of my miniscule audience, whether a pet owner or not, to always practice situational awareness at all times.