We were visiting friends yesterday, and my friend with her pomeranian mix and I, with Cazzie and Chelsie, went for a walk in her neighborhood. Just casually walking along, chatting, having a good time; I noticed some men working on a boat in their yard. Then began a series of events one two three, in a blink of an eye. Little girls in the house started shouting "puppies!" and all of a sudden we were surrounded by four little girls reaching out for our doggies. Now I love little girls, and had one myself, but these girls were undisciplined, grabbing for the dogs...Cazzie was excited, jumping and squirming, and Chels was terrified, trying to get away. My friend had scooped up her Pom. I was trying to control the pups and at the same time going to tell the girls not to touch dogs unless they asked first, for their safety and the dogs' safety, and had turned away slightly, with Chelsie bucking against her harness...when I sensed a large dog head at my thigh and looked down and all I could see was a pit bull-like head with yellow eyes. This head was at my right side, to my back. With my left hand I was pulling the leashes of my guys out so that they were at arm's length and I was screaming for the men in the boat...come get your dog! Come get your dog! For Pete's sake come get your dog! I actually said "for Pete's sake!" Where did that come from???
I am amazed something else didn't pop out!
Anyway, by this time I had made a great lunging scoop and came up with Caz and Chels (Chels had started growling, oh very helpful, Chels.) One of the men came then and grabbed the dog. "It's not my dog," he said to me, and then to the girls, "Who let the dog out." And they all went off and my friend and I went away without another word, I was trembling and shaking. She walked that street many times and never saw the dog before.
Now, I had always thought I had a plan for a stray dog's menacing approach. I would kick it in the chest or midsection or hit it in the head with my heavy flashlight (I didn't have my flashlight with me yesterday.) But this dog approached silently, from my back! I am sure thankful it didn't menace the pups, but just stood there looking at them. I wonder, what could I have done in this situation? It happened within seconds, it seemed.
Now I am going to get on a rant. I have heard, "Oh my pitbull is a darling and wouldn't hurt a flea," I would like to ask these people, "where do you suppose their heritage, genes and the name Pitbull comes from?" These dogs have been used since the Middle Ages for one thing...for tormenting and trying to kill bulls and bears in a pit for the entertainment of the people, both upper classes and low. Bets were wagered and the blood would flow. There is a potential deadly gene pool in every pit bull. Just like the collective genes of collies trained to herd and daschunds dig for gophers over the centuries.... OK, rant over. I am relieved and thankful all ended well.