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Chain


Guest Ditch_Shitter

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Guest Ditch_Shitter

It was over a week ago now that I told one of my farmer clients I'd be round the next day for a look at his rat situation. " Good. " He said. " And could ye bring ye rifle? ". Obviously, visions of me popping off live rounds at rats around his out buildings didn't exactly strike me as quite the done thing. I asked what he wanted the rifle in attendance for. " To shoot that Dog of mine. " came his simple reply :icon_eek:

 

Now, this guy has two Dogs. A castrated, fat and lovable old yellow lab. And the Thing he has on a chain outside his cottage. He'd asked me about Guard Dogs some time hence. But, as soon as I'd realised he fully intended to breed from any top quality bitch I found him, I let the subject slide by. And so, it seems, he went out and got some Rottweiler. God knows where from. But I turned up there to service his property one day and there it was; Lunging and barking from the end of a (thankfully) sturdy chain.

 

Obviously, I just completely ignored this Dog. Stayed out of it's range and did my work. I never so much as discussed the thing with him. Coming from Portsmouth I'd grown to develope a healthy dislike of the breed and the 'fish tank carriers' who rolled down the roads with them straining on thick leads. Now I was to shoot it dead. Right there where it lunged. In stone cold blood.

 

Well, taking the rifle 'slipped my mind' the next day. I turned up without it. Only this time, rats dealt with, as I walked up the drive to the cottage - to be greeted by the bum wagging fat lab - I stopped beside the Black Beast and gave him a crafty once over. A swift, impromptue 'assessment'.

 

As he lunged and barked and generally leapt about in his paroxymal fury at my presence, I stood side on and spoke gently and reassuringly to the fat one ~ all the time really directing my 'vibe' at the monster. I watched discreetly but closely for a reaction.

 

For a while, he continued his overt threat display. Promising me a horrible end, if only that chain or collar should give out. But I persisted to offer him calm reassurance and was soon enough gratified to note how he'd stopped lunging and was now content to just stand there, barking at me. That was when I also started to notice something 'wrong' with this Dog: Not only did he appear to have been castrated. He didn't appear to have a dick either! :blink: As sure as eggs is eggs; That 'Dog' was a Bitch!

 

And that's when the barking ceased alltogether. And our eyes met. And, even as I try to write this, my own are now stinging with tears once more. I looked at her. And she looked back at me with such a look of pleading. For understanding. Someone to care. She was so deeply unhappy and simply wanted to be loved.

 

The rest, as they say, is history. I had a word with the client and demanded he allow Nothing to happen to her untill I got back. I then went off to a forum I know, populated by some of the worlds foremost Handlers and Trainers of the most potentially hectic Dogs around. Personal Protection Dogs. I asked their advice on how to handle what could yet prove to be a loose canon and a brutally powerful one at that. They did me proud. I hung on their every word and, over night, learned more about dealing with such Dogs than I've ever done in my entire life previously. Because I Listened.

 

So, armed with a new depth of knowledge and completely altered attitude, I brought her home. A desicion I've been delighted with this past week and which I don't foresee me ever needing to regret. She's proven to be an absolute sweetheart! :D

 

Having been kept on a chain, without so much as a stick of shelter available to her, just laying on the field as the heavens opened, ye can probably best imagine the sort of condition she was in when I closely examined her. And yet that seems to have done nothing to diminish her awesome physical power. This she demonstrated to me on about the third night, when she suddenly lit out for the fence, took me off my feet and dragged me a measured twenty seven feet across loose chipped tarmac! :icon_eek: Had the fence not halted our progress, I'm sure she'd be in Ulster by now, still dragging what of me hadn't been eroded away as she dragged it along! Dean O' was round the next day and actually pointed out my skid mark across the yard.

 

But I'm piling the raw lamb into her and she's responding. Now I can feel some muscle where before there was loose skin and bone. The socialisation regimen amongst my other Dogs needs to be a very slow, protracted and careful business, but progress there too is clear to see. Then I shall start to concentrate on her basic obediance. I can discern that her only 'training' thus far has been to be made to sit by dint of lashing at her rear quarters with a lead :no: There'll be no more of That in her life.

 

Smiling now. I've just glanced round at her. There she is, curled up in her bed. Fast asleep and coat shining. She came to me with no known name so, in view of her history, I've called her " Chain ". She responds to that, just as she responds to Any show of love and affection ~ none of which, I feel, she's ever had before.

 

Here she is: The Dog I refused to kill ......

 

 

 

" Chain "

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