Home » A Wasted Life » Why I’m Not A Dog Person

Why I’m Not A Dog Person

When I was just a tiny little thing, I had been “allowed” to come back home for some routine torture and was out playing in the yard.
Our next door neighbor was the Police Chief and he had a daughter.  I saw her outside and risked potential punishment by going over to her house to play.
They had a German Shepherd.  She said “if he comes out, whatever you do, don’t run.”
As soon as she said that, the dog came out.
Since my mama never let me forget that I was “so smart” I showed off my highly intelligent self and took off flying.  He caught me in front of a huge chain-link fence and almost tore my arm off.
She went in and got her daddy who got him off of me and acted like it was my fault his dog had attacked me.  I guess it was…stupid me did exactly what I was told NOT to do.

I went home and cleaned my arm as good as I could and hid it under my shirt.  I knew if mama saw it, she would beat me for going next door without permission.  My arm swelled up and kept bleeding so mama eventually saw it.  Saints be praised….she didn’t say anything and she didn’t whip me!
She told my daddy and all he said was “young’un,  did your mother say you could go over there?”  I said “no sir.”  He said “well, I guess you learned your lesson, didn’t you?”
I was absolutely elated.  I had escaped not only my mamas’ wrath but my daddys’ as well.

I’m hoping that dog didn’t have rabies.  So far, some sixty years later, I haven’t had any symptoms but I’m keeping my eyeballs peeled, just in case I turn into Cujo.

I wasn’t afraid of dogs after that and I never ran from one again.  Granny (mamas’ mama) always had a dog and I remember all of them.
Sheba was a beautiful Collie.  We would play together when I went to grannys’ house. She was a good-natured dog but one day….Sheba was gone.

A few months later, Taig appeared.  I liked playing with him too.  He was a wiry mutt that loved to play fetch.  One day, Taig was gone.

Then there was Dotter.  Dotter was a sleek, black dog that may have been a pinscher or something similar.  I walked over to grannys’ house one day and she was sitting on the front porch with this huge stick in her hand.  Dotter was tied to a tree in the front yard.
There must have been fifteen dogs howling and barking around the house.  Every time one would try to get close to Dotter, granny would hit it with that stick.
I didn’t understand what was going on then…but I do now.
A few months later, Dotter was gone.

There was Nick, the hound dog.  Nick surprised granny when he had a litter of puppies.  One of them was born dead and granny said she tried to blow in its mouth but it didn’t make it.  She said she threw it in the fireplace.
It wasn’t long before Nick and all of his puppies were gone.

The last one I remember (before I left for good) was a precious little white dog.  I think what happened was so traumatic that I can’t (or won’t) remember his name.
I was at grannys’ house and she had called mama to come over.  My oldest sister was with mama and when they got to grannys’ house, we got into the car with the dog and started driving.  I remember the look on mamas’ face and it was a mixture of anger, resentment and sadness.
We drove way up into the country and stopped.  Granny put that little dog out on the side of the road and told mama to “hurry up.”

I was standing up in the back seat of the car, looking at that little dog just standing there.  I said “granny, let’s go back and get him.”  Granny told me to be quiet.
We drove all the way back home and just about two blocks from the house, I looked out the back of the car and there was that little dog, running just as fast as he could across the bridge.
I started saying “(?) is behind us!”  I saw mama look into the rear-view mirror and then look at granny.  She kept driving and when we got to grannys’ house, I asked her if I could go look for him.  I guess she said yes because I remember running down the street as fast as I could.

I got there just in time to see that little dog get run over and killed.




41 thoughts on “Why I’m Not A Dog Person

  1. Oh, I am sorry to read this! Especially since I only have good memories of our dog, growing up. She was a beautiful dog, nice pedigree and all.. she had puppies and I took care of them, they were the most adorable critters ever. 🙂
    I am so sorry you had these bad experiences!! How awful. I am glad that you like cats though! They are wonderful, too..! I have a cat and he is my best little buddy and wants to cuddle whenever I get home. 🙂 He is so old though, I fear the grief that will come when he passes away (he is already 17 years old – *gulp*). Have you thought about getting a cat? (Again?) It is soo nice. 🙂


    • I have thought about getting a cat but my neighbor has about six ferrel cats that she feeds and they’re always getting some disease.
      My sister had a dog who was 18…he was deaf, blind and had no teeth left. She had to have him put down but immediately got another one.
      I’ll tell you the same thing I told her….”there must be a special place in Heaven for somebody who has loved an animal so very much.”
      My middle daughter had a cat that I raised while she was in transition from school to married life. His name was Leroy. When I’d visit her (in the before time) he would walk by and “speak” to me. He got really sick one time and I went down to take care of him while she worked. He was a hoot.
      One night, her husband called me for her. Leroy had literally been torn up by a neighborhood dog and she wanted to know what to do….try to save him or let him go. He was so badly injured that I told that selfishly I would want him to live but the doctor said he would be in pain, so I told her to let him go. It was horrible. She has never gotten another cat. 😦

      Liked by 1 person

  2. LWL, this is such a sad story, it must have been awful for you to go through this! I’m so sorry. Before getting to the dogs disappearing part, I was going to say that I was laughing out loud reading the first part of the story. Sorry about the bleeding arm but your writing just cracks me up. And then bam – the second part broke my heart.


      • You weren’t old enough or you weren’t broken enough. I can’t believe they actually took you along on the dog discarding trip. This is so so sad. So so irresponsible. You should never have seen this, you should never have had to figure things like this out.


        • But…remember….my mama took me to the park once, got mad at me, put me out of the car and left. I walked all the way home and when I got there she said “oh…it’s you.”
          Put your dog out….put your child out….no problem.


          • I hope you don’t think I’m a freak but all I want to do now is to go back in time, to that moment when your mama said “oh…it’s you”, and give you a big long hug and tell you a million times it was not your fault. It never was your fault.


            • I don’t think you’re a freak at all. I wish things had been different then…when people actually felt the need to protect children. The neighbors could hear me screaming…my teachers saw the black eyes and bruises…but nobody did anything. Nobody wanted to “get involved.”
              The bottom line is….I survived. I may be broken but…I survived.

              Liked by 1 person

  3. That’s so traumatic. Oh Laurel, your stories break my heart. 💔 I don’t blame you not wanting any dogs after that. You’ve endured such horrific things, darling woman. My heart sends you love.


    • Thank you so much for the love. You know, Sam…that kind of thing was so fucking normal to me. I had no idea how life was supposed to be.
      I didn’t dare cry over that little dog….I would have been made fun of and told “that’s right. Turn on the waterworks.”
      I always felt like it was my fault somehow. I could have gotten out of the car and stayed with him. Hell, my mama took me to the park and put me out. I was lucky that I found my way home. Such horrible creatures….my family.


  4. Oh, that’s sad on both stories, the dog that attacked you and the little one you saw hit by car 😞 explains your reasoning for not being dog person though ❤️
    I recall as child, there were dogs that roamed around a secluded area In the countryside, where I lived. My sister and i would walk through the woods, by a stream and one day the dogs were there. One knocked me down and started pulling in my coat, my sister left me and ran home. The others dogs just stood around barking. I felt bad , but kicked him off me and ran home. We never did walk around there again. I do love dogs though, as I grew up with them. Mind you, I have two cats now 😊


    • I think that’s why I’m not a dog person. I had no idea what was happening to those dogs. They just “went away.” Seeing that little dog get killed had a lasting impact on me. I just can’t do dogs….my sister has always had one and my friend has one but I just tolerate them.
      Now, I better never see somebody abusing one and if I saw one that was starving, I would feed it….I just can’t have one. It’s funny, dogs gravitate toward me because I hear they can tell when you don’t like them.
      One very interesting thing that happened to me was when my son and I were walking uptown and a white dog on a leash came over and sat down right in front of me.
      I petted it on the head and it just looked right into my eyes.
      The girl who was walking him said “this is freaking me out. He has NEVER let anybody pet him or looked at anybody.” She went on to say that he had been rescued from a horribly abusive situation and she was trying to get him acclimated to trusting people again.
      I told my son that I really believed that dog could somehow sense that I had been an abuse victim. It was strange….and sweet.

      Liked by 2 people

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