Candy Got Attacked

 

Ok, so first off, spoiler: Candy is fine. There's just a small scratch on her face but honestly she's gotten worse when she fought cats those several times.

I've walked Candy around the block (up my street, around a corner, down another street, and then back around) for years and years now, and much more recently, I've been doing it everyday. At this point, I've got to be some sort of fixture in the area by now, you know, like in your own neighborhood. Like some kids who are always playing in the street after school, or an old lady who always sits on her steps at a certain time of the day smoking cigarettes, or that particular house where you know they're having cult meetings. Honestly, I've been at it for so long, some people have asked how Candy is doing, or asking about her age, everyone probably just surprised that she's still alive. And with the way she grunts when she stands or eats or shits, yeah, she's up there in age.

But more on that another time (seriously, I've been putting together a post about Candy's old age for several months). Let's get to the events. So, for a time reference, this happened last week Thursday (I hate typing, and I prefer posting on weekdays). I'm going down the other street when a dog starts barking. Nothing unusual about that, dogs bark all the time when Candy is peeing in front of their house. I see a dog's head through gate bars and it follows us as we walk passed the house. I see it try to peek over the low part of a fence, and I laugh as I hear some elementary school age kids trying to calm down the dog. We got to the end of the next house/ plot when I hear the kids' screams get louder. I turned back and naturally Candy does too, you know, because of the leash, and there's a dog barking and running right at us, roughly Candy's size or a little smaller.

Now, I told you that whole thing about walking Candy for years to set-up the fact that this obviously isn't the first time we've encountered loose dogs on our walks. And every single one of these encounters, no matter how aggressively the dog was behaving earlier, ends with the other dog either stopping short, barking more, and then running away; or circling around Candy to sniff her butt.

So, as this other dog is charging us, children yelling in the background, I'm just standing there thinking, "I wonder how this is going to go?" Well, that dog took option three and lunged right at Candy's face, who managed to avoid letting the dog clamp down on her snout. Instinctively I pulled Candy away and put myself between her and that other bitch (I think I'm allowed to say that, right, since it was a female dog). The other dog snarled and started circling around me, trying to get to Candy. I'm not sure why it considered Candy the threat/ target and not me but I guess that's a dog thing. Then I just spent the next minute or two (it probably wasn't that long) just keeping myself between it and Candy until those kids finally came over and grabbed their dog. 

I know what some of you are saying, "If that was me and my dog, I would've punted that other dog down the street." Well, let me tell you, it's a lot more difficult than you think to actually kick a dog. Not morally harder, mind you, I was still snapping kicks at it even when those kids came into view. I just mean that it's a lot harder to kick a moving target with your off-leg (is that the correct term? Non-dominant kicking foot?) as Candy's leash is held in my right hand, while you're also trying to keep yourself in front of your own dog, who, even after being attacked, is trying to get in front to see what that bitch's problem is.

Well, eventually those kids grabbed their dog, and Candy and I walked away. Well, she first stopped and peed in their neighbor's yard, and then we walked away. She got a small scratch on her nose which bled a little. Back at the house I cleaned it off, spraying some antiseptic on a paper towel and dabbing her wound. I thought about spraying it directly on the cut, but if she behaves the same way as she does when I give her a bath, I would've ended up spraying it in her eyes while she struggled. We went for another lap afterwards and didn't see the dog, so I can't say for certain what happened to it (their dad sounded really mad about the incident).

A Boy and His Dog

They say there's nothing more natural than a boy and his pup. Watching the two grow and play in the yard, in the house, at the park. No cares, no worries, no thoughts. Existing not as two independent creatures but rather a flurry of actions and events resulting in the simple joy of just "being". A personification of happiness we only find in the deepest parts of our memories - memories not buried but rather forgotten through the daily stress of living - resurfacing only through nostalgia and dismissed just as quickly.

And as natural as it is to feel this resurgence of childhood happiness, it is equally tragic to see a boy and his dog. One still growing into his prime while the other's passed. To tell him he can't play as rough as he once could, but not find the words to say why. To know the boy is too old to believe in "The Farm" and yet too young to understand why his best friend no longer moves; why Dad is in the backyard with a shovel; why he isn't allowed out of the house until we finish filling the hole.


For Sammy and Rascal...
gone, but never replaced

Sadly I couldn't find a picture of Sammy and this was the only picture of Rascal I could find. I think all of our old pictures were on the old computer before it crashed. or else still in the pile of photos that still need to be put into an album.

And this is my sister's dog, Candy. Though she's been outside for about three years now, she still gets tangled around that stump in the picture of Rascal. She also refuses to sleep in that igloo house.