Through the Eyes of a Delivery Goddess |
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My mother has always told me, "Some day, you're going to pull back a bloody stump" ... I've never been afraid of dogs as a rule. I've probably only met two dogs in my life that actually made me nervous - a dalmation a friend of ours had for awhile (until he bit everybody in the family), and the dog that lives three doors down from us. The people that live down the alley from us are as mean and angry as the dog - but their teeth aren't quite as sharp. I've never been afraid to just pet any dog, or return them to their owners by grabbing the collar and dragging them home. A few owners have mentioned fearing for my safety in handling their dogs, but ... so far ... I'm still in one piece. As I left for a pizza delivery one evening, one of the other drivers said, "watch the dog - he's funny". I pulled up the long gravel driveway that made a sort of semi-circle around the property and eventually led to the house. The big yard was open - no trees, and right at the porch was a post to where one end of an overhead dog run was tied. The other end stretched out toward the middle of the circular driveway, but stopped about ten feet short of the edge of the gravel. When my tires hit the gravel, the dalmation spun around on his hind legs and dashed like a greyhound racing toward my car. You've all seen the type - the dog is running with such speed, when the leash runs out, the dog's neck stops, but his back-end spins around past his head. Any object in motion stays in motion..... He followed the car the best that his run would allow, and snarled and growled at me when I got out of the car and headed toward the porch steps. He was within about five feet of the steps - he couldn't get "at" me, but he certainly made his presence known. When the woman came to the door, we did the food/money exchange, and I asked, "What's the dog's name?" "Louie", she said. As I walked toward the dog, I threw down my pizza bag and took off my hat. The woman's voice shook as she said, "I wouldn't ... I mean, ... I'm not sure what he'll do." I said, "That's OK - I will not hold you responsible if he bites me. I promise." I got down on my hands and knees about two feet from Louie. He was still growling with his lips curling and teeth showing. I leaned down on my elbows with my hands stretched out toward him, palms up. I spoke to him in a joyful childish voice: "Hi, Louie ... How is Louie today? Such a pretty puppy"... Don't laugh, you've all done it. I inched closer. I got within about ten inches of his nose; if he had lunged, there's a good chance he could have taken my fingers off. His tail started to wag every so slightly, and even though the growling never stopped, his lips ceased their curling. I reached up from underneath his jawbone and scratched his ears just a little bit. I was careful not to get my face too close, but continued to talk to him. I suppose I scratched him for about twenty seconds. I slowly inched away, and after I had cleared about fifteen to twenty inches, the lips started curling up again, and his tail curled under his body. Now, he was mad that I was leaving. HA! I tried to get up slowly, and he jumped to his feet and went back to his angry barking. I picked up my pizza bag and hat; the wife said to me, "No one has gotten that close to him in months - except my husband on rare occasions. Feeding him is a real challenge". When I got back to the shop, a couple drivers asked how my delivery went. I said that I felt the dog was not well, and was scared to death. They laughed and said, "no, Dalmations are just mean". Well, I didn't buy that - I knew too many nice Dalmations. It was nearly four months later before I had a chance to return to the house. I asked the woman when she answered the door, "What happened to Louie?" She said, "OOOOOOhhhh ... YOU'RE the one that got down and actually was able to pet Louie! My husband could NOT believe it." She glanced down at the ground and said, "about two weeks after you were here last, we had to put Louie down. Kidney failure." Sensing the pain she felt, I cheerfully said, "Well, it was great you gave him such a nice home - a long run ... and lots of delivery people to chase." She laughed. She said her husband was ready for another dog, but she just wasn't sure - I suggested something two years old from a shelter that's already mostly trained. She said she'd consider it. When I returned to the shop, I wallowed in the pleasure of "I told you so" as I relayed Louie's illness to the other drivers. No, I'm not a dog whisperer ... just common sense. Have you ever been around a person who's not really feeling well - especially someone who is terminal? Most people have lost their sense of humor under those circumstances. Fear is a funny thing. Changes us all into something different, permanently, or temporarily. |