Damned irresponsible dog-owners need putting down!
What is it with these sad old sacks who need to advertise their manhood by the breed of dog they choose to own? I'm sure Pit Bull's are pussycats in the right hands. Sadly, from my experience, it seems very few of them seem to fall in to those.
This breed is outlawed on the mainland, but it appears we haven't quite got there yet. Why is it the only ones that ever cross my path, are those left to run wildly out of control, by loose-jawed, vacant numpties,
Jake and I played hooky last week. Turning my back on the thousand chores a-calling, I packed up my camera and loaded up the hound, scarpering off to shores unknown. The sun was up, and it was simply too tempting an invitation to ignore. I stopped off along various parts of the coastline, enjoying the solitude and views, before finally heading on down south, to The Sound.
As you can see, just off the tip of here, lies a little rock masquerading as an island, it's a small bird sanctuary we call The Calf of Man. The place has only one solitary house on it, and as there is no power or water supply connected, the only resident there must rely upon a sole electricity generator for power, and needs for every other supply (water included) to be ferried over via rowing boat.
When the sea is rough, the place can be cut off entirely for up to a week or two or more. Two wildlife/bird wardens reside here, but as they work on an alternating rota, in essence they live alone.
Although unreachable to the likes of you and me, the place is close enough to The Sound, to afford some good sightings of anything of up to eighty and beyond different species of bird, many of whom migrate to breed here. At this time of year, you can also often spot an abundance of basking seals and their calves. It was the latter I was hoping to be lucky enough to capture, and I'd lugged along my hefty zoom lens and trusty tripod for the task.
It was idyllic, the only folk around seemed to be those of the retired variety, most others being either at work or in school. They happily passed the time of day as they strolled by, some exchanging (well-meaning and useless) tips and advice, others simply curious as to what in the hell I was up to.
Jake immersed himself in the sea-grass, whilst I immersed myself in my passion; all was well in the world of Shrinky and Jake.
I didn't see them coming until they were there. A pair of two snarling, growling hounds from hell. They stealthily made a circle around me, ears flat, crouched and menacing.
You ever get that pin-prick heat that all your pores are on fire? It really does happen when your hair stands on end. I froze, forgot to breathe.
Jake is no fighter but he has a loyal heart, with an alert sense of my imminent doom, he launched himself, full-pelt from the dunes, and tore uphill, joining me by my side. It's funny, because it's a running joke at our house what a useless guard-dog he makes, I've never, ever seen him like this (and hope I never need to again, either). There he stood, bless him, facing them off, hackles raised and muzzle bared. But brave as he is, it took no genius to see we were both in grave trouble.
Emboldened now, they drew closer, snapping at the air, posturing. I slowly, ever so slowly, bent down to fix a hold on Jake's collar, feeling certain in the next second he would almost certainly be ripped open.
Wildly casting my eye around, I spy him.
He's freaking grinning.
As I scream "Do something", they launch. It all happens so quickly, Jake twists out of my grasp, leaping to meet them. Instinctively, I follow, but can't get between them. Jake howls, and fighting back with gusto, he yelps as they attack.
It's amazing what a little adrenalin can do.
Lifting a rock, I join the frey, wildly swinging to smash one of the brutes so hard over the head, I feel as if my wrist has shattered. He drops. Yes, I meant to kill the brute, and in truth, I thought I had.
Only now does this Neanderthal decide to act, maybe he was scared I'd move on to finish the other one off, and then come back for him? With flight out of the question, I sure have found myself stuck in the fight mode. The jaws of the other monster is now locked around Jake's throat.
The Cretin who loosened this chaos finally steps in, wrenching his creature off. Jake is bleeding profusely, and shaking like a leaf.
His other spawn from Hell regains his senses, and wobbilly takes to it's legs again - apparently stunned, but still very much alive and growling. The Plank, his owner, belatedly decides to leash him, too.
Get this - he's outraged I've injured one of his pets! Threatened to report ME for animal cruelty! Had my knees not turned to jelly, I would have delivered a very well-deserved and much warranted kick to that obviously sadly impotent, limp dick of his.
I settled for a choice, albeit brief rant, instead. I had no time to waste on the deaf eared streak of vomit, Jake needed the vet, and I strongly suspected my wrist was broken.
Besides, my knees were knocking.
Such a horrible way to interrupt what had started as a promising, beautiful day. After bathing and cleansing Jake's ear, I was relieved to find it wasn't torn. Unlike his neck. He needed seven sutures to put it right, not to mention a couple of shots, and is now currently on a course of antibiotics for the encounter.
My wrist is sprained and bandaged.
Yes, I called the police, but without a name or any idea of which slime-pit this pox-ridden runt crawled out of, the only action they can take is to file a report, and commiserate.
Dear old Jake, remind me never to insult his capabilities again, will you? He shared a huge, juicy steak with me once I got him home, after all, I think 'twas the very least he deserved!
This is a re-post, and actually happened three years ago. Both Jake and I are now fully recovered and none the worse for wear. I never did hear anything back from the police, but sadly, I could only give them very little to go on. My dear friend, Jeaux made recent mention of an encounter he had with a Pit bull and it's owner, and it reminded me of my own. I told him of this post, and he asked if he could see it - so, Jeaux, this one's for you.