Dog Fights
Now let me start by saying that I am not a fighter by nature. I never had a fight with a dog, a cat, a human, no animal ever until I went to the Dog Park. Lots of factors come into play to set the scene for an uneventful day or utter chaos. And it’s not just me; it’s everyone, all the dogs, all the people, and the weather, and the time of day, and, well, just everything!
So, in my eyes there are 3 kinds of dogs that cause problems at the Park.
The Fearful. This dog can be any size, any age, any breed. Their scent is immediately identified as timid, uncertain and insecure. He or she will tuck their tail, slink around and try to avoid socializing. When confronted, they snap or snarl and hide behind people or benches if they can. If they start yelping, it’s like a wounded animal and everyone goes nuts. This behavior brings out the aggression in a lot of us dogs. Even the nicest of dogs will corner the timid Fearful and even bite or attack. Then everyone is in on the fray, and there’s mulch flying and people yelling and the poor victim shrieking for its life. The owner doesn’t help when they are just as scared as the dog. We can smell their insecurities and it just makes it worse.
The Aggressive. These are the dogs who just
have to establish themselves in the pack. Often they are those lucky boys who still have their doo-dads. And they just let ‘em hang there, for all to see. I don’t remember loosing mine, but I know I don’t have them anymore. The Aggressive dog will challenge and try to dominate, thus placing themselves higher up in the pack. They **** me off. They stare me down, or put their paws on my back, or bite my face and mean it. They start most of the serious fights and should not be allowed at the Park, but no one makes them leave.
The Humper. Yeah, there’s always one in every crowd. They don’t even care which end they grab. I’ve almost been poked in the eye by a rude dog. Sometimes they do it on purpose (because they know what they are doing) and sometimes it just happens when we are playing. Everyone will be running in a pack and chest bumping and grabbing ears, and next thing you know there’s this dog on your back, humping away. This, my friends, has earned me the reputation of Aggressive Dog (which I am not). I just can’t stand it. If Humpy gets on my back, he has three seconds. Three. Count ‘em…One…Two…Three and now I’m biting his head off. And I don’t stop. I’ll chase his sorry ass all over the Park until I get yelled at and made to leave.
So my First Fight went like this: I was only 2 years, and I’m playing and running and having fun. There are two other Labs there, and we like playing together. I also like the Rotts and the Boxers. They know how to play; chest bumping and rolling around and biting forelegs. Then a young white Pit Bull comes over to me and does a ‘face off’. I stand there looking at him, looking him right in the eye. His tail is wagging, but I know better. I don’t trust him. He stands up and puts his paws on my shoulders, kind of crossing them around my neck, which might be how Pitts play, but not me. I didn’t like it. I count to Three.
I dropped one shoulder and flipped him off. What happened next was so fast I don’t really remember it. All I know is the Pitt was on his back, I was lying with my front paws on either side of his head and my mouth around his throat. Pitt wasn’t going anywhere. He snarled and snapped but I had him fast, and laid my full weight on him. My Lady was yelling and pulling me by the collar, but I was dead weight on that dog. I didn’t bite him, I just pinned him down so he couldn’t bite me. Finally my Lady heaved me backwards and I was being dragged away and scolded. But no one took the Pitt, and he launched at me and bit me in the face, hard. His teeth caught me below the right eye and tore the skin deep. Now we were really fighting, teeth gnashing and blood and slobber flying everywhere. People were screaming and shouting. That would be ‘Utter Chaos’ at the Dog Park, and yours truly the star of this awful show. Finally it was over, and I didn’t get in as much trouble as I expected. I don’t like Pitts to this day.
Second most memorable fight was with a 165 pound Mastiff. This one was all my fault. I was playing with a stick, and I was sharing the stick with Turbo, a black lab. Then Napoleon the Mastiff came over and tried to play too. Three on a stick is one too many, and I turned and attacked the poor guy. He tried to fight back but he didn’t really want to or maybe didn’t know how. I didn’t draw blood but I was serious about teaching him a lesson...Don’t Eff with my Stick! At one point I noticed Napoleon had a leash, and a large woman was being dragged behind him, face first in the mulch. Within minutes the fight was broken up, and the woman sat with Napoleon and saying “no toys at the park, they shouldn’t allow toys at the park, my poor baby, my poor baby.” Hmmph. That’s one big baby. He should have torn me a new ****. My Lady tried to break up the fight and someone bit her thumb. Might have been me, I don't really know, but I'm sorry for that. And I'm sorry for Napoleon; his silly owner treating him like a baby.
I don't get into real fights anymore, just squabbles. We'll squabble over a toy, or being humped, and the people break it up, make us be friends again, and then we take off running and playing. No hard feelings