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by ruwth
Rated: 18+ · Book · Contest Entry · #2145363
I will be adding stories, poems & reflections as the year marches on. Take a gander today!
#967011 added January 27, 2020 at 11:32am
Restrictions: None
~ Rosebud backwards ~
As a kid, we had a family dog named Dubesor who was an Airedale mix. He looked like a blond Airedale. I can no longer remember for sure the other half of his parentage but there was no denying the Airedale half.

The folks we got him from had opted not to have the puppies tails docked. We didn't have Dubesor's tailed docked either. We saw no need—until that tail became a whip that destroyed everything in its wake and left welts on my leg when a happy pup wagged it furiously and it slapped with vigor against my vulnerable leg.

After discovering that docking an Airedale's tail was for more than just cosmetic reasons, we took Dubie to the vet.

Well, when a vet lops off a tiny pup's tail, it is a minor surgery and the dog recovers quickly. Not so with a full grown dog.

Dubesor did not respond well to loosing his tail. Since I had pretty much laid claim to the family dog, I had the task of his post-op care.

It was a relatively easy thing to keep his stump of a tail bandaged and clean. Physically, Dubesor was healing well. Emotionally, he was not.

As he mourned for his trophy of a tail, he stopped eating. My parents tried different kinds of food treats to entice Dubie to eat but he was just wasting away.

As I prayed for a solution, an idea popped into my head. I remembered Dubie liked beer. I snuck a bottle of beer out to his pen and poured it over his food.

It worked! He ate the beer soaked dog food and, to my relief, his hunger strike was over.

After he recovered from this trauma, he and I regularly went for walks around the block. Part of our route took us by David Dwyer's house. The Dwyers had a vicious Dalmation.

That dog would charge at their storm door barking and growling anytime anyone walked passed the house. I was particularly afraid of Dalmations because one had bit my bum when I was about five years old. This one's ferocious demeanor did nothing to assuage my fears. I would tremble as he repeatedly crashed against the door.

Then came the fateful day. Someone entered the house just as we were passing by. I heard the door fail to latch. The dog crashed against the door as was his usual pattern but this time that safety barrier was not secure and barking, growling, snarling, that dog headed straight for me!

What happened next is a blur. I can only remember when the dust settled, I was standing in the field next to the Dwyer's house. Dubesor had his paws on my shoulder and was licking my face. Mr. Dwyer was asking me if I was okay.

I was very shaken and had somehow lost a shoe but I had escaped injury. Mr. Dwyer explained he had heard my scream and ran out to find Dubesor keeping his dog at bay.

Dubesor was my hero.

Sadly, our friendship was not destined to last.

Dubesor jumped the fence.

He jumped the fence around his pen, galloped through the yard and jumped the picket fence around our yard and ran daringly through the neighborhood til we caught him and brought him back.

We tied him up and Daddy built a higher fence. For a while that did the trick but, Dubesor having a taste of freedom was determined to escape the confines of his pen.

The dogpen was not that wide but it was wide enough. Dubie ran at the six foot high fence and bounded into the air. He hit the fence with his paws and propelled himself higher—high enough to go over the top. Once again, he galloped through the yard and sailed over the picket fence.

That was when my parents found him a new home and I lost my furry friend. I hope he spent the rest of his life enjoying fields of fun. I wish we could have enjoyed those fields together. *Cry*

Word Count: 679

Written for "Holiday Short Story Contest

Holiday: "Adopt a Dog Day" so write about a dog.

~ ~ ~ JESUS is LORD! ~ ~ ~

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