The Aftermath of an Unplanned Dog Fight…Part One

I have a horrible temper. I will be the first one to admit I need anger management. I never lose my temper with my kids, I mean literally never. The two people I lose my temper with the most are my Mom (back when we had a relationship; we haven’t fought in over a year) and my husband (whether or NOT we have a relationship). Nobody has ever pushed my buttons like those two. Until last Thursday.

I haven’t talked about my dogs on this blog as much as a couple of my others, but I have two dogs; Mogley (Mo) is 3 years old and is a darling white pitbull-beagle mix with a big brown spot around his eye; he’s a very undersized dog and just the most precious pit bull you can imagine. The other (Scooby) is a purebred pit bull and a ginormous dog the color of cocoa powder. As I have mentioned before, I live in a house with five (count ’em~5) other men; four are homosexual and one is straight. There are a total of five dogs at the house; three belong to the owner of the house, who lives in the entire upstairs area with his husband (and there are three completely different breeds of dog: a teacup chihuahua, an Akita mix and Saint Bernard), one belongs to the straight male (his name is Boot and is a chihuahua mix of some kind) and then I have Scooby with me. All of the dogs get along with the exception of one.

Now my straight roommate is really strange, as I have mentioned in earlier posts, and is terrified of pit bulls; therefore, he does not allow Boot to be around Scooby. Whereas before I came he used to freely let Boot roam the house and join him to cook and/or eat in the other room, and he put him out back anytime he wanted–in fact he used to keep his back door open and let Boot wander; now, however, he has to keep Boot in his room all the time and ask me before putting him out back to go to the bathroom, despite my urging that we get them used to each other as well as my extensive research on dog breeds and how to acclimate them to being around each other. They have never been around each other even for a moment, because Boot’s owner, who is the guy I mention in two earlier posts, Addiction is a Bitch   and  **Confused and Lovesick…Need Guidance, Fellow WordPress Friends is petrified of pitbulls as well as of Scooby hurting Boot. Lately, I have tried to talk Boot’s daddy in to letting me bring Scooby around Boot, and he has seemed to soften on the subject at some times and then be really rigid about it at others. But after a full month of sobriety, Boot’s owner went back to using methamphetamine and drinking so heavily the previous five days that he scared the crap out of Boot. The most recent episode of his drunkenness was last Wednesday, when I was very worried about Boot because of how violent his owner seemed to be getting each time he got drunk. I was able to talk him in to letting me hold boot the last time he was drunk in his room, ranting and raving out loud as though he were in a heated disagreement with another person; I wanted to make sure he was okay; Boot was shaking, nervous, and clearly terrified of what was to come next. Luckily that was the last day of a five-day drinking- and using-binge. 

So after he sobered up the next day, I asked him if I could check on Boot. He wasn’t very nice about it, but he said “yeah whatever, do what ya gotta do–hold him, kiss him, love him if it makes you feel better…” Which I did, and the poor little guy was a nervous wreck. I sat there holding him and petting him, telling him what a good dog he is and trying to calm him down. What happened next I will regret for the rest of my life.

I sat in the hallway outside the bedrooms holding Boot, comforting him; talking to him and holding him tight to try and calm him down and make him feel better. Then all of a sudden I was looking eye-to-eye at Scooby. My other roommate had left his back door open and Scooby wandered in like he sometimes does, and I hadn’t even thought about the possibility of that happening. I did not move; I sat there kind of puzzled but not reacting, I wanted to let the dogs react on their own, not in response to my own freaking out. At first they were both calm; but then Boot’s owner came around the corner from doing the dishes and saw Scooby, and he started freaking out. That’s when it started. They looked at each other as though they were in the middle of a major battle. And they were soon about to be…

…Pause, okay so now I know something that I did not know before I moved here and was  around other people with their dogs on a regular basis; dogs are most definitely influenced by the reaction of their owners. This guy’s dog is super sweet but he’s a chihuahua and I don’t know what you know about these dogs, but they bark at everything. My dog is a pit bull. Pit bulls are very friendly, very sweet dogs–but if a dog barks at them or is barking around them, they bark back, and their barking is quite aggressive. This is the main reason Boot’s owner had just recently admitted to me, that he didn’t want Boot to go around Scooby. He knew that if Boot started barking, Scooby would bark back. Except that on this particular day, neither Boot’ owner nor I were thinking about the fact that two of our other roommates have a habit of leaving their back door open, a back door leading right into the backyard, and when they do that, they are letting my dog wander in when I let him out. Which means that the other dog can come out of his room freely and walk around the house.

  • Unpause… now Boot’s owner has a horrible habit of completely overreacting to everything under the sun. But this time it was worse than normal. He started screaming and yelling, causing the dogs to begin very aggressively barking at the other and then to, how can I put this without it sounding completely awful….to attack. That still sounded awful didn’t it? But that’s exactly what happened. I can’t even describe what happened next, because the dogs were moving so fast that I couldn’t see them, I just know there was a lot of growling, Boot’s owner yelling at the top of his lungs “get your dog Jen! Are you happy now? Is this what you wanted”. And my daughter had taken Scooby’s collar off the night before and forgot to put it back on, so I could not get a grip on Scooby, and by this time they sounded as though they would kill each other. It was the most awful sounding thing ever. I finally got a hold of Scooby, but not before my roommate picked him up twice; once he threw him against the bathroom door and once he flung him against the wall.

I was hysterical over the dogs fighting. My roommate was so upset he couldn’t get any words out. I had my daughter with me, and she witnessed the entire thing and was bawling her eyes out. What happened next was even worse than the dog fight… don’t mess with Mama, is what my daughter later said…

 

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