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Rated: E · Short Story · Biographical · #1480736
Taking In A Stray
Life takes many twists and turns and sometimes the addition of a new pet to the family can create stories to be passed on to our grandchildren. So I am going to go back about 12 years to the beginning of our new family and the arrival of Bad Dog. My wife and I were newly married and in the process of combining our lifes. You know, kids, problems and all that goes with it. Whoever thinks the Brady Bunch was a reality show is completely living in the dark. So, as it was, life was complicated but we were trudging our way through it. In this process, we would often go out for long walks in the evening with the kids and our Eskimo mix Keesha. It was on one of these long walks that Bad Dog entered and changed our lifes forever! It was late on a spring evening and we could smell the rain in the distance. About half way home this big black beast began to follow us. Not threatening in any way, just keeping pace in the rear. We were cautious and we were trying to make it home before the rain came down.
The rain came as soon as we hit the front porch and made it through the door. Yet, Bad Dog was still there! He was there standing in the pouring rain looking at the door. My wife and kids insisted we let the dog in out of the rain. It was at that point that life changed. Bad Dog had become part of the family. There was no collar, no posters and no calls made to the Lost Pet Hot Line. He just came out of the dark and into our home. He was big, over a hundred pounds, square head, barrel chested, no tail, and thick jet black hair. He looked intimidating and I gave him the new name of Max. He became a new addition to our nightly walks. Walks where at the sight of him people would stay in their cars or even go in their house. However, as large and intimidating looking he was our Eskimo mix, which was 1/3 his sized ruled over him. He had his routines of course. After eating he would roll over onto his back, groan and then fart. You could hear the wind and it was like he was laughing. He could clear a room, hence the name Bad Dog! That was given to him by my wife. At night when we were sleeping he would try and sneak up onto the bed. No matter how gentle he tried to be he was never successful. He was not allowed on the furniture but it never failed that when we came home he would be slinking off the recliner. Another verbal round of "Bad Dog". Once or twice we came home and found all of the Christmas wrap that was stored under the bed had been drug out and torn to shreds. No matter that he was too big to get under the bed, Max took the blame with the usual round of "Bad Dog". He was a good dog though. The kids could sit on him, ride him and pull his ears. The most that he would do would be to roll over and fart. Max did not care for arguments. He would come and stand between us. If the kids were in trouble, he would again stand between us. He always found a way to difuse the situation. On one walk however, a group of about 3 or 4 dogs came tearing around the side of a house heading directly for the kids. Before I could do anything, Bad Dog had pulled loose the leash from my hand and placed himself between the kids and the dogs. With his feet apart, Hair on his neck and back standing straight up the oncoming dogs stopped in their tracks and they turned and headed home. For once he was the hero of the household. He was Max and not Bad Dog. As the months wore on Max started getting restless. He would actually climb over the 6 foot privacy fence around our back yard and go looking for love. The complaints started to come because he was being annoying. I would find myself more and more out looking for him. Bad Dog I would call him when I got him home. It came to a height one day as we were leaving and Max jumped the fence and took off up the street. We followed in the van and it was not long before He stopped in a soccer field to leave a turd. I knew I had him. He wasnt moving until he was finished. Dogs never do! I took off across the field trying to reach him before he was finished. It didnt matter though! Bad Dog looked at me and took off. Yep, the last I seen of him he was running across a parking lot with a big turd hanging from his behind! I thought He would come home but he never did. We searched and searched with no success. We put ads in the paper, called the lost pet hot line and checked the pound and shelter for weeks but there was no sign of the dog that changed our lifes. As quickly as he arrived he left like the wind he would leave in our house. We still miss Bad Dog but he is in our hearts and memories forever.
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