I have a hypothesis that is likely totally bogus, but I am running with it anyway. My supposition deals with older women and pets, particularly cats and especially small dogs. As a woman passes the age of fecundity, as she passes the period of child rearing she does not lose her mothering instinct, her need to nurture. Small dogs fulfill this role admirably. Small dogs are not so big as to overwhelm one, or so big that they take over the house. Small dogs are in most ways much easier to care for. They are frequently very loyal and loving to their primary care giver. Plus, many are as cute as the proverbial speckled pup under a red wagon. Another one of my hypotheses is that as the genders age, they become similar. I’m betting this one has a less of a chance of being bogus. One reason I think this is that you frequently see older men with small dogs. Perhaps they are walking them for their spouses. Perhaps they have reached the age of IDNGAF. Or perhaps they also have the need to nurture and be loved by a warm, fuzzy presence that does not overwhelm.
Robin recently rescued one of these small dogs from a shelter. She is part terrier, and part mama-got-out. She is absolutely cuter than a bug’s ear. She weighs about 14 pound, and I can only assume that is sopping wet. Being small and having spent several months in a shelter she is a bit on the timid side, and she tends to bark at everything, including me. I was trying to name the wee dog “Killer” due to this, but Robin kept insisting that her name was Lily. I do wonder if there was a mean male in her past, but there is no way of knowing. On the whole, though, she has warmed up to me, and may someday worm her way into my heart. Robin has fallen totally and completely in love with her. The two of them have become inseparable, and if all children were treated as well as Robin treats this dog we could rename our planet Utopia.
My son, David, invited us down to Arkansas to spend a couple days with him and his girlfriend. I do not understand all the whys and wherefores, but they have moved in with her mother. I do not believe it is money as David makes better than average money as a RN. David does have a tendency to march to a far off drummer who is beating out a tune with strong syncopation. However, all three seem happy with the situation. Once upon a time, multi-generational households were the norm.
I had asked David a couple times if we needed to get a dog sitter. I was not sure of how many dogs he currently had. At one time he had 4 or 5 floating around the house, several of which were large dogs. He commented to me, “There are three dogs here, one more will not make a difference.” Robin was going back and forth about getting a dog sitter. She had only had Lily a couple weeks so that was adding to her ambivalence. Last I heard, though, was that was that she had one. Then that Christmas night, the night before we were to go, I discovered we are taking the squirt with us. After dealing with women for 40 plus years now, I have figured out that you need to pick your battles. This was not a fight I wanted, and honestly, I knew it was a fight I would not win. Harmony dictated that I just accept it and move on.
We loaded up the Outback, including a dog crate, and headed for Fayetteville, Arkansas. After a six hour drive, and the GPS taking us on a circuitous route through Fayetteville we arrived at David’s new dig. It is rambling ranch style house that was probably built in the 60s. We pull into the driveway, unknown to the occupants of the house. We get out of the car, and Robin puts Lily on her leash. I grab a small load to take in on the initial journey. As we approach the door, a grandkid comes bounding out of the front door. It is Jordan, and he wants a hug from Mama Skye.
Suddenly there is a large brown flash that heads straight for Lily. It is a very large Pit Bull, brownish in color with tiger stripes. Robin sees this marauder, and she jerks Lily straight up in the air by her leash. It is a wonder that she did not snap her neck. This only redirects the Pit Bull from a ground attack to an air attack. She goes for Lily as she is swinging in the air, and Robin is trying to gather her into her arms. This causes Robin and the dogs to go to the ground. The Pit Bull is snapping, and growling. She is doing her best to get to the terrier being protected by Robin’s arms.
The next bit of time is like a series of freeze frames. I remember thinking that I needed to do something, and I needed to do something quickly. The next frame is my foot being planted into the Pit Bull’s ribs. The following frame is the dog coming after me with her mouth stretched to the maximum and slobber going everywhere. An avalanche of people flowed out of the house, two of whom tackled the Pit Bull. It is David and David’s girlfriend’s mother, Crystal. They corral the Pit Bull and put a harness and leash on her. Robin is on the ground crying, holding her wee dog. I am standing there just a wee bit shell shocked. Robin indicates to me that she wants me to take Lily and help her up. I do so. Crystal takes the Pit Bull into the back yard. Later on she takes the dog for a long walk on the hope that it will calm down.
David sees Robin crying and goes over to her and hugs her to comfort her. I am asking questions to make sure she is not hurt. Fortunately, neither Robin nor Lily was injured. It was not for lack of trying on the Pit Bull’s part. I later apologize to Crystal for drop kicking her dog, but I really did not know what else I could do. She is okay with it, and agrees that there was nothing else that could have been done.
The rest of the weekend we had to keep the two dogs separate. If they were in the same space, Robin would have me hold Lily. Initially, Juno, the Pit Bull, would come up to me snapping and barking at Lily. After several vigorous scoldings she stopped that. She would then walk by and eye Lily like she was trying to determine if it would take 3 or 4 bites to completely devour her. I worked really hard to make friends with the Pit Bull. As long as I did not have the terrier in my lap she was fine. They never did make friends, and Lily was never on the floor or not held if she was around. For the rest of the time, we kept her in separate wing of the house, or in her crate.
I know a lot of folks believe that Pit Bulls are misunderstood, but I have never been comfortable around them. This just reinforces my opinion. I generally get along fine with canines, and I am not afraid of them. However, Pit Bulls, Doberman Pinschers, and to some extent German Shepherds, I do not trust. I even have a bit of fear in regards to those breeds.
I do believe next time I visit my son we will be getting a dog sitter. I do worry as his girlfriend is pregnant, due May 20th. I personally would be terrified to have that dog around a baby. He did make a comment about the two of them and the dog going to obedience school. It would be helpful I am sure, but I would still be nervous.
I am really glad that Robin rescued a snack-size dog.