Bad Luck with a Doberman

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Editorial and Opinion  |  House: Booksie Classic
I've encountered a lot of large dogs in my life, and I've been attacked on 3 different occasions. In this book, you will learn how my fear of dogs has grown more and more.

Submitted: December 30, 2011

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Submitted: December 30, 2011

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Bad Luck with a Doberman

By Brett Darwin

 

Prologue

 

This book is split into 3 different chapters, the first being called “Bad Luck with a Doberman”, the second called “Meeting a Pitbull”, and the third called “Attack of the Black Lab”.  All of these chapters are different stories about true encounters with dogs that weren’t so friendly to me and my sister.  I love dogs; I can’t wait until I one day get one, but huge dogs aren’t my favorite.  I’ve been attacked or chased by a dog on 3 different occasions, and they’ve made my fear of large dogs greater and greater.  These stories are scary to me, but if you have a large dog that is friendly and loves people, these stories may make you laugh.  That’s what this book is targeted to do.  Create more than one mood, more than one opinion.  I hope that when you finish this book, you too will have a certain opinion about this book.

 

Happy reading!

Brett Darwin

 

Bad Luck with a Doberman

 

It was just another ordinary Saturday.  My dad, my sister and I were doing errands around town.  We had to go to the auto parts store on Washington Street, so we parked our dad’s blue Dodge Caravan in the parking lot and walked to the door.  When we opened the door, a man with 2 large Doberman Pinschers walked out.  We tried to get in, but the dogs blocked our path.  They started growling.  Both my sister and I were young, so our first instinct was to run, and that didn’t go over very well.  One dog went after me, the other after my sister.  My sister went running down the street, and I ran into the parking lot.  We didn’t care about anything other than protecting ourselves from the dogs.

 

While all of this was going on, the owner of the dogs was trying to get them back.  He was yelling and screaming their names, both names that were pretty foreign, pretty weird.  However, the dogs kept on going.  They wanted us, wanted to play, I guess.

 

The man finally got his dogs back, and walked back into the store.  My dad took us down the other end of the street for a walk and waited a while until we were sure the dogs were gone.  We walked back towards the store after a while.  My dad let us look around the store while he talked to the man at the front desk about the dogs.  I overheard the man saying, “Well, those dogs come over here all the time.  No need to run.”


I learned later that running from any dog, tall or small, is the worst possible thing to do.  I figured it was, but I didn’t care.  I wanted to protect myself, and that was my purpose for running.

 

That day marked the start of my fear to dogs.

 

 

 

 

 

Meeting a Pitbull

 

I’ve been going to my grandparents’ house at least once a week since I was just a little squirt, and I was over at their house again when I was about 8 or 9 years old.  The old house next door had just become occupied, since a younger man had just moved in.  He loves animals, loves the outdoors, really.  He’s a really helpful guy, and he knows a lot.  He has 2 dogs, one is a Pitbull and the other I’m not quite sure about.

 

Anyways, my dad, my sister and I had just stopped over to my grandparents’ house to eat lunch with them.  We were done with our Saturday morning errands, and they live right off Washington Street, so we picked up Subway sandwiches and headed to their house.

 

When we walked out the door, we talked a little bit with my grandmother, and then headed for the car.  As I approached the door, I heard my grandmother saying, “Sarah, WATCH OUT!”  I turned around to see my sister on the ground.  The Pitbull was enclosing on her, and she was crying.  I opened the door and got in the car, my sister behind me.  The dog kept barking at us, but we were safe in the car.  My dad and grandmother were outside, but they were fine, too.

 

After the dog ran back to his house next door, my grandmother went over to talk to her neighbor.  We stayed in the car.  My dad tried to comfort us, but nothing would work.  My fear of dogs couldn’t get any better now that another large dog had attacked us.

 

When my grandmother came back, she told us what her neighbor had said to her.  “He told me that you should just go over and scratch him behind his ear,” our grandmother told us.  “I told him, ‘There’s no way in the world that my granddaughter who’s not even 7 is gonna go over to a dog taller than her and pet him.’”  We said our good-byes once more and headed off.

 

The next day, our grandmother came over to check on us.  “I just want to make sure you’re alright,” she told us.  We were physically fine, but we were emotionally torn apart.

 

Attack of the Black Lab

 

I have 2 good friends from school that live in my neighborhood.  I hang out with them all the time.  One of my friends called me up one day and asked me if I wanted to come over.  I said, “Sure, I’ll be over in a minute” and asked my dad for a ride.  Now, I walk up the hill to his house, but I was younger and didn’t have anyone to go up with at that time.  My dad drove me up and let me out of the car.  As soon as I approached the door, I saw a huge Black Lab standing next to my friend.  “You got a dog?” I asked him.

 

“Yeah,” he replied.  “She’s really friendly.  Nothing to be afraid of.”

Easy for him to say.  He had never even been attacked by a dog once, so he had no reason to be afraid of any dogs.

 

I walked in his house, and the dog raced to the couch.  I pet her, and she just laid there for me.I was actually starting to believe that this might be a dog that I could bond with, could be friends with.

 

I came over a second time after that, and she still acted in that kind way, the way she did when I first met her.

 

The next time I came over, she started to jump on me, bark at me.  I had no clue why she was acting this way.  “Is she always like this?” I asked my friend.

 

“Yeah,” he said.  “I don’t know why.  She was pretty calm when we first got her.”

 

She kept on jumping for a while, and eventually, my friend’s mom had to put the dog outside.  When she came in, she was overexcited.  She chased me around the house, barking at me all the while.  My friend stood there, yelling for his mom to come down, and eventually, she did.  She brought the dog upstairs, but I was still shaking.

 

Whenever I hear a chain moving, I turn around and make sure it isn’t the noise of a dog’s leash.  That dog attack will always make me scared.  I’ll never change my opinion on large dogs.  I’ve been attacked too many times.  I’m so used to it that I can’t trust anyone with a large dog.  Many times, my friend has asked me to come up.  He thinks he can control her, but I always give him the same answer.  “No,” I’ll tell him.  Large dogs just aren’t my kind of thing.

 


© Copyright 2017 Brett Darwin. All rights reserved.

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