Every Dog Has An Off Day
She was called Lucy, and was, perhaps, the first indulgence of my rich neigbours in the canine family, which later would blossom into a full grown fleet. Lucy for them, Lucifer for rest of us.
I haven't seen more spiteful, and ugly dog. She would bark at the sight of her fellow breed, she would bark venomously at every passer by, every guest, absolutely every one. This would be from her comfortable perch of the balcony, poking her snoot out of the railings.
On her evening and morning strolls for you-know-what, she would be even more hard to control. We knew her habit, so we stayed clear off her rope length, but those unalarmed, unfortunate passers by who knew nothing of her ways, were always at biting risk. Every week, there would be an incident, when we would come to know - "Lucy Ne Ek Bechare Ko Kaat Liya".
The more resentful thing was her absolute refusal to grow familiarity. She had seen us kids for so many years, but her behaviour towards us would be the same -bitchy, as she would exhibit with the strangers. They say that the first impression is the last one, and I must say, since then I could not grew fondness with the dogs - as it was the first dog in my life.
Of course, for the proud masters of the dog, she was the angel incarnate. They never gave much due to the immortal fear she had instilled in the entire neighbourhood, because according to them, she was as genial as a gentlewoman would ever be. The typical answer to those bite incidents would be - "Lucy Ko Injections Lagey Hain". Grrrrr.
The frustration against her was all time high when one day she bit a little girl, who, incidentally, was the sister of one of my friends. We, the kids, decided enough was enough. It had become utmost imperative to teach that bitch a lesson and settle the scores.
The plan was hatched. There was no way we could stand against her in open, and, also, she should be alone. As luck would have it, one fateful afternoon, we found her alone in the balcony. The door opening to the room was closed. We assembled below the balcony, with small pebbles in our hands. Hearing our voices, duly came Lucy and began her customary barking at us, by poking her snout out.
It was that snout which we were waiting for.
If we threw stones straight at her, no doubt they would have hit her, but quite a few might have landed in balcony. That would have meant trouble. So what we did instead, we hurled stones parallel to the balcony wall, just at the moment her nose appeared. When it would hit, it use to fell near us, and if it missed, it never entered the balcony. Since she was such and egoist and revengeful bitch, she kept on peeping to bark back, and we kept on hitting.
After 15 minutes or so, when the pain became unbearable, her barks turned into moans and whimpers, and she moved away. That was some sight. We had forced the bully into submission, and vented our years of frustration.
I know canine lovers, and PETA guys won't be amused to read what we did, but they must agree that it was one bad dog. Those were the times of 14 daily injections in the stomach, and many were the victim. However, terror of Lucy insured one thing. I take the signboard - "Beware Of the Dog" very seriously. I know they mean it.
I haven't seen more spiteful, and ugly dog. She would bark at the sight of her fellow breed, she would bark venomously at every passer by, every guest, absolutely every one. This would be from her comfortable perch of the balcony, poking her snoot out of the railings.
On her evening and morning strolls for you-know-what, she would be even more hard to control. We knew her habit, so we stayed clear off her rope length, but those unalarmed, unfortunate passers by who knew nothing of her ways, were always at biting risk. Every week, there would be an incident, when we would come to know - "Lucy Ne Ek Bechare Ko Kaat Liya".
The more resentful thing was her absolute refusal to grow familiarity. She had seen us kids for so many years, but her behaviour towards us would be the same -bitchy, as she would exhibit with the strangers. They say that the first impression is the last one, and I must say, since then I could not grew fondness with the dogs - as it was the first dog in my life.
Of course, for the proud masters of the dog, she was the angel incarnate. They never gave much due to the immortal fear she had instilled in the entire neighbourhood, because according to them, she was as genial as a gentlewoman would ever be. The typical answer to those bite incidents would be - "Lucy Ko Injections Lagey Hain". Grrrrr.
The frustration against her was all time high when one day she bit a little girl, who, incidentally, was the sister of one of my friends. We, the kids, decided enough was enough. It had become utmost imperative to teach that bitch a lesson and settle the scores.
The plan was hatched. There was no way we could stand against her in open, and, also, she should be alone. As luck would have it, one fateful afternoon, we found her alone in the balcony. The door opening to the room was closed. We assembled below the balcony, with small pebbles in our hands. Hearing our voices, duly came Lucy and began her customary barking at us, by poking her snout out.
It was that snout which we were waiting for.
If we threw stones straight at her, no doubt they would have hit her, but quite a few might have landed in balcony. That would have meant trouble. So what we did instead, we hurled stones parallel to the balcony wall, just at the moment her nose appeared. When it would hit, it use to fell near us, and if it missed, it never entered the balcony. Since she was such and egoist and revengeful bitch, she kept on peeping to bark back, and we kept on hitting.
After 15 minutes or so, when the pain became unbearable, her barks turned into moans and whimpers, and she moved away. That was some sight. We had forced the bully into submission, and vented our years of frustration.
I know canine lovers, and PETA guys won't be amused to read what we did, but they must agree that it was one bad dog. Those were the times of 14 daily injections in the stomach, and many were the victim. However, terror of Lucy insured one thing. I take the signboard - "Beware Of the Dog" very seriously. I know they mean it.
posted by Unknown at 9:26 AM
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