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Rated: E · Non-fiction · Biographical · #2066018
A dog out of control
         It all began in the early 80s. I bought a dog. I picked him out from a litter of pups. He was the spunkiest of them all. I ask where the mom and dad were, but the owner said they kept the dad up and the mother was outside playing. This should have clued me in to ask more questions about his parents, but it was my second time going to a breeder, and I was pretty naive about the questions to ask. I was so excited about getting the dog, I also didn't pay attention to the surroundings of the place.

         I picked this little guy out and named him Panda, because he had the look of a Panda Bear. The whole family was excited about him. We had lost our dog several months ago when a car ran over him. It was devastating to all of us. So, Panda Bear came into a family of five. Two girls and one boy. A dog couldn't ask for more. At this time he was only six weeks old.

         One day I had invited several couples over for dinner. Panda was three months old then. After dinner, everyone sat on the floor playing a game, and playing with the dog. A young lady shouted out, "He bit me!" This young lady wasn't very well liked, so everyone dismissed what she said. Most continued to play the game and to play with the dog.

         By the time Panda was six months old, I knew there was something wrong with him. By now he had become my dog. I had become his protector, but I was concerned about him and how he acted. He would go after my children and he would try to bite them. When we had people over, we had to put Panda in the bedroom. That's how dangerous, he was to other people. We had two other dogs, but it was like they knew not to get in his way, especially when he was eating.

         When it was time for his grooming, they had to put him to sleep, and when I picked him up, I had to take him out of the cage. They always made me go get him. The first time I did this, I was shocked; Panda heard people coming into the room and he slammed himself hard against the bars of the door. He was growling hideously the whole time. I had never seen him like that before. We had to have his teeth ground down because I didn't want him to hurt anyone if he did manage to bite them.

         One day I decided we needed to put him down. I knew something bad was going to happen if I didn't. My son said he would take him to our veterinarian for me. The next thing I knew the Vet. called me, asking,"You don't really want to put this beautiful dog down do you?" Of course I didn't. He was a beautiful and I loved him. So, my son took him back home.

         Two years later, I had picked Panda up from the groomer at the Veterinarians clinic. He was still very groggy. He laid in my lap sleeping as I sat in an overstuffed chair, softly petting him. In a blink of an eye, the dog raised up and attacked me, and and chewing my finger. My oldest daughter started over to get him off of me, but I told her to stop because he would go after her. The onlyreason he stopped was he had a seizure as he was biting me. God Bless him, I think they had given him too much medicine to put him to sleep. My finger was chewed to the bone. After going to the Emergency room where they gave me a shot, cleaned it up and bandaged it, I went home. But the finger swelled and became infected. I had to go an Orthopedic Doctor. He quickly put me in the hospital to do surgery. But In the interim, I acquired a bone infection.My doctor had a specialist come In, and he put me on liquid medications. He advised my doctor to do two operations on the finger, one a day. He didn't want the infection to spread.

         I got better and was released from the hospital, but my husband had the dog put down. The Vet. was very apologetic for not putting him down when I had asked him too.

         I cried for Panda. I believe something was wrong with his brain. I believe that's why they had the papa dog locked up. I think he was very mean, but they used him as a stud. Our poor little Panda never had a chance.

791 words
© Copyright 2015 Lynda Miller (lmiller7569 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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