When the dog fight won’t stop
10 minutes later, the dog owner couldn’t get his dogs apart
For about a year, I moderated health news chats, one of which was about the benefits of children roughhousing. While I patiently listened in on the pros and cons, I just kept thinking one thing: Even as a kid, if you act like you’re about to fight me, we’re fighting for real. Generally speaking, I’m a hugger and an affectionate person, but I’m also someone who feels like you can talk to me without touching me if I don’t like you — so tread lightly.
In my younger years, I’d been in a handful of fights. I won some. I lost others. No broken bones or black eyes, but enough to let you know I’m not playing with you. However, I’d watch my brother and his friends wrestle until their hearts were content, and they somehow seemed to enjoy it. It wasn’t my cup of tea. It’s also why I gave up so quickly on kickboxing class; I don’t like fighting for fun.
Still though, every blue moon I think of that particular health chat whenever I see dogs wrestling. I simply don’t get the appeal, especially after two Labradors I was dog sitting were going at it so heavily that one of them bit my toe. I know some dog owners are cool with dog wrestling. While the owners of the Labs gave me permission to separate the two — 99.9% of which required the 50-pound puppy being leashed to a couch long enough to sit down and knock it off for a few minutes — there are some dog owners who insist that the dogs should “just play.” But when that “playing” gets real, it gets really real.
Recommended Read: “When your dog gets mouthy ~ Acknowledging the difference between playful nibbling and dog bites”
The dog fight that felt like it would never end
Yesterday morning, I was outside groggily walking my early bird Hound mix, who trotted along in that “happy to be alive” way that morning people do. (You all are otherworldly.) About 20 feet away from me on a perpendicular street, a man was peacefully walking his two dogs. One locked eyes with Junee (my dog) and leaped. The owner pulled that dog back, and I backed up slowly to make sure he had his two dogs under control.
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To my absolute surprise, one of the two (my guess is the one who leaped) bit the other and it turned into a full-on dog fight. (I later found out about redirected aggression, which seems completely counterproductive.) Initially I thought I should pick up Junee, but this 16-pound Hound crossbreed sat down and looked up at me like, “Who invited them to the neighborhood?” I wanted to laugh at her expression, but this was serious business. Within the first 60 seconds, I realized this dog owner could not get his two dogs to separate. He ended up collapsing onto the grass on top of them, yelling, “Let go! Stop! Release!”
One dog yelped. The other dog growled. All I could see was the owner wrestling with both dogs, and I crossed the street. Two people came out of their homes, one of which asked, “Should I call somebody?”
I don’t know how I’ve managed to escape all of these scenarios in the past — 22 years as a dog owner (13 with a Labrador Retriever, nine with a German Shepherd), and 84 different dogs walked over the past two years. Somehow, almost all of the K9 excitement has come from my short time with Junee, including her bolting into a busy street. I wasn’t quite sure whether I should call Animal Control, 911 or just let the dog owner break it up.