Friday 26 November 2010

Hell Week



This past seven days has been an absolute nightmare.  My dog was attacked and my publishers went bust. 

First to the dog attack - I’ll talk about my publisher hell in my next posting, after I’ve stopped sobbing.  I was out walking with my dog, when another dog (a German shepherd type) sprinted over and lunged at him as he was chewing away at a stick.  The dog was twice the size of my Benjy and as usual in cases like this, the dog was unaccompanied.  My Benjy managed to fight the dog off (although he was much smaller he is a muscle man, mainly because he loves diving through the air to catch his Frisbee) and I got between them and told the dog to get lost.

I thought that was it done and put Benjy on the lead and was heading home when the other dog attacked again.  This time I managed to get Benjy away.

Dogs fight, it’s a fact of life, but what shouldn’t be is dog owners like the silly bitch who owned this one and who knows her dog is violent (this is the first time in the year I have been seeing this dog that it has been off the lead), yet still thinks its perfectly okay to let her dog off the lead so he can run off an attack another dog and she’s too far away to stop it.

When she finally did appear (some five minutes after the first attack), despite witnessing the 2nd one she didn’t even acknowledge anything had happened.  In fact, she looked right through me.  If it hadn’t been for the fact I wanted to get Benjy to safety I would have given her an earful.  People like her shouldn’t even have remote control dogs, never mind real ones. 

This attack brought back very bad memories.  When I first moved to this island of irresponsible dog owners, (since I moved here over five years ago, two Akitas (Japanese fighting dogs have attacked their owners and had to be put down, and a neighbour’s Weimeraner crushed a little girl’s throat as she played in her garden), my old dog Vic (a mixed breed dog the size of a German shepherd) was savaged by a giant Bull Mastiff.  The beast appeared out of nowhere and didn’t so much as growl at him before it’s teeth latched onto his throat.  Predictably, the owner was nowhere to be seen.  The dog had no collar on it either. 

If a passer-by had not come and started kicking the hell out of the dog that wouldn’t let go of Vic’s throat even as my boyfriend and I pounded away at it trying to get it off, our dog would have been killed.  Afterwards we took Vic to the Vet and he needed stitches in his neck.  The vet said that had it not been for his collar the dog would have killed him.

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