Dog Gone

Posted on June 27, 2002 in Neighborhood

Dog Gone

Every day I see some of my neighbors walking their dogs around the condominium development. Some have pets of appropriate size for the homes they own: shelties, beagles, and smaller. A hard core of Old Yeller lovers for whom a dog is not a dog if it fits into anything smaller than a computer monitor packing case insist on keeping dire wolves in the one and two bedroom units we have around here. These dogs need an open range or at least a back yard. Their owners, I think, are mostly country folk who have never lived in a city or tight suburb before. They shave their heads so they won’t look like a hippy. It’s a community of skulls. Some work in construction. The dogs go with them in the truck. Others leave their pets home all day, letting them out only after they’ve been made to hold their bladders for up to 12 hours.

A virulence worse than rabies infects the housebound hounds: when the door opens their instinct is to throw off the stiffness of their muscles and bolt for the long stretches of asphalt. A few weeks ago, I watched one of these canine claustrophobes overrun a three year old girl who happened to be in the way. Her mother threw herself over her daughter as the hound charged with open maw and clubbed paw. He was being a dog, running out to join in the mindless run, the wild hunt of the suburban pet and owner that never brings home any game. His marine-wannabe owner chased after him and gave him a wincing kick in the ribs. “The tender mercies of the wicked are cruel,” such actions make me think. The neighbor is pulling out of his little Vietnam, doubtless blaming everyone except himself for the disaster he inflicted. I felt sorry for the dog in the days that followed. Anytime that he went out (when it was likely that the girl or the girl’s mother would be around to see him), he had to wear a muzzle. The little girl could not sleep with her stuffed animals for the first few days after the attack. She is coming around to petting furry things again and we’re taking her to the zoo in a couple of weeks. A red and white For Sale sign appeared at the foot of the dog lover’s stairs. He’s moving on, to a place reportedly that has more of a yard.