I live in an apartment complex of two-story units attached. Front door access is to the courtyard outside leading to the cars and the streets, etc. OK. I come in last night from my rounds, park my car, go inside and start to warm up my homemade taco meat to make two tacos. It's about 9:30pm. I finish the tacos, clean up, and sit down in my high-back- arm-chair-that-tilts, grab the remote and turn on the TV. As I begin watching and surfing the channels, I hear the most God-Awful screaming coming from outside. It's a reasonably quiet living place with a rare bit a drama from time to time. I figure it's probably some fighting going on and it's best I don't get into it. Ya never know these days.
Well, the screaming gets louder as I turn down the TV volume. It's hi-pitched but throaty on the bottom, characteristic of female screams when the scent of death and injury is in the air. It's loud and urgent and sounds like four or more women screaming at once. I carefully open my door to look out, mindful to watch for bullets (who watches for bullets?). I see diagonally through the night, across the courtyard, a bunch of people and somebody is mercilessly beating someone or something on the ground hard like they were trying to kill whoever or whatever they were beating. I thought it was a man beating a woman on the ground and the women around them were just too scared to interfere, but screaming like crazy. Other unit doors were opening as residents started to view from a distance.
I felt I HAD to go and try to put a stop to this. I cannot stand by and watch a woman be beat by a man with a club. Or without a club. I just can't. As I get closer hurrying over, I see that the beater is a woman that lives there, and the beat-tee is a medium sized dog bent over a small dog it has in its mouth at the neck, trying to KILL it. The big dog is a husky Pit Bull and the woman beating on him (yes, it was a woman, not a man) was having no effect at all. Two women were trying to get the pit's head off the little dog while screaming and yelling. More were standing around just yelling like crazy while the little dog's head and neck was being shaken and torn. The Pit was growling like a wild bear in heat.
Bobby H. to the rescue!? What was I to do? Just stand there and watch? I decide to give the Pit a good kick in the ribs. I did so with all available strength and accuracy. I kicked that dog harder that I have ever kicked anything or anybody, and I never kicked anybody in all my 71 years on the planet. I instinctively knew I was going to have to try to get that Pit off the little dog with one kick, cause if it turned on me, I was going to need my other leg to start the #turnandhaulASS maneuver.. The Pit didn't even react. It just kept growling, salivating, snooting, and using its teeth to tear into the little dog's flesh while the screams got louder. I felt like I had hard-kicked a brick wall.
Meanwhile, the woman who was beating the Pit was now resting her head on the pole she was using pointed down on the ground. She was relieved SOMEONE had come in to take over. She was breathing like she was going to pass out, and crying her eyes out while still screaming. How do you women manage that? The noise was deafening now. There were other guys around but keeping their distance. I got it in my mind to do one more truly healthy, deadly kick but decided upon a different area. A softer target. The infamous "ballzone" that shows itself under the tail when the tail is curled up as it was in this Pit Bull's case. The bull had large and healthy thighs so, being a man myself, I decided to give it a break and aim my kick toward the inner thigh, still hitting the ball-zone but not so directly. Maybe it's a breeder, you know?
I take a full breath, circle around to the rear end of the Pit Bull, bring back my leg (the one with the new artificial hip joint) and let my foot fly with ALL my strength into the meat of the target. BAP! I kicked that dog so hard, I KNEW if it failed, I was in the wind for sure! The pit instantly let go of the little dog and turned to see who threw the ping pong ball at its leg. Right. That second kick didn't phase him much more than the first one did. Either of those kicks on a human being would have caused serious damage depending on where it landed. Either one of those kicks would have killed the average child.
The Pit turned and looked at me briefly, but now the little dog, having been set free, was hi-tailing it into the open unit door where it lived, its owner chasing after it. I guess that Pit Bull said, the hell with me and ran towards that apt door going after the little dog. Now it's got two people on its back end and the owner of the little dog trying to grab the pit around the sides to keep it from getting into the open apartment. I helped close the door after she entered and the bull got pushed and pulled outside. Somebody showed up with a dog harness and someone was saying "it got out of it's harness".
The Pit was now standing and panting while the people were trying to put its harness back on. It was cooperating, probably feeling a little sore in the right inner hind leg at the ballzone wondering if it was ever going to have sex again. They got him into the harness and I turned to go back into the apt of the lady whose dog it was that had been attacked. She had two such dogs in that one-room studio unit she shared with her husband who was at work at the time. She stood crying, panting, and screaming, holding her hands out, pacing slowly around the room. She had blood on both her hands and blood was on the floor. The tiny dog was no where to be found. I figured it was under the bed being quiet or dead. I asked if she was ok, but all I got back were sobs, muffled screams, pacing and untargeted staring.
At this point as the screams were beginning to dissipate, as the drama was winding down, as the peripheral screams were morphing into talking and speaking drama-review narratives, I took one last look at that Pit Bull who was still looking straight ahead, still standing, still cooperating with its owner (one of the women screamers), and decided my work was done here. I made it back across the courtyard to the quiet of my own unit, shut the door, and crossed over to my raised-back, tilting leather armchair to resume watching TV and digesting my Tacos.
Addendum:
People, DON'T GET A PIT BULL. There are other kinds of dogs. FORGET the Pit Bull! If you MUST own a Pit Bull that is temperamental enough that you have to harness it to walk it, be strong enough to keep it in its harness. I know what happened. That damn Pit Bull saw that little dog. The little dog (unleashed), started that yip yip yip yip barking that little dogs do, and took off onto it, pulling the harness leash right out of the woman's hands. By the time she recovered the leash, the harness had come off the Pit as it took the little dog's neck into its mouth to teach it to never bark at Pit bulls 5 times its size.. Strength is what is required to walk a Pit Bull with a harness. The harness won't do it for you. If you are not strong enough to handle a harnessed Pit Bull, don't walk a Pit Bull in a harness. DUH!!!!!!
The lady that owned the little dog eventually went to the hospital, got her hands taped up and took the little dog with her. That's the last I heard. I haven't inquired yet, but I'm sure she's a bit shocked, but ok. The little dog is probably back under the bed cursing her dog god for having made it so small but thinking it was big like the wolves and bears she evolved from.
Thank you for letting me share.
Robert W Hamilton 6-13-2019
Well, the screaming gets louder as I turn down the TV volume. It's hi-pitched but throaty on the bottom, characteristic of female screams when the scent of death and injury is in the air. It's loud and urgent and sounds like four or more women screaming at once. I carefully open my door to look out, mindful to watch for bullets (who watches for bullets?). I see diagonally through the night, across the courtyard, a bunch of people and somebody is mercilessly beating someone or something on the ground hard like they were trying to kill whoever or whatever they were beating. I thought it was a man beating a woman on the ground and the women around them were just too scared to interfere, but screaming like crazy. Other unit doors were opening as residents started to view from a distance.
I felt I HAD to go and try to put a stop to this. I cannot stand by and watch a woman be beat by a man with a club. Or without a club. I just can't. As I get closer hurrying over, I see that the beater is a woman that lives there, and the beat-tee is a medium sized dog bent over a small dog it has in its mouth at the neck, trying to KILL it. The big dog is a husky Pit Bull and the woman beating on him (yes, it was a woman, not a man) was having no effect at all. Two women were trying to get the pit's head off the little dog while screaming and yelling. More were standing around just yelling like crazy while the little dog's head and neck was being shaken and torn. The Pit was growling like a wild bear in heat.
Bobby H. to the rescue!? What was I to do? Just stand there and watch? I decide to give the Pit a good kick in the ribs. I did so with all available strength and accuracy. I kicked that dog harder that I have ever kicked anything or anybody, and I never kicked anybody in all my 71 years on the planet. I instinctively knew I was going to have to try to get that Pit off the little dog with one kick, cause if it turned on me, I was going to need my other leg to start the #turnandhaulASS maneuver.. The Pit didn't even react. It just kept growling, salivating, snooting, and using its teeth to tear into the little dog's flesh while the screams got louder. I felt like I had hard-kicked a brick wall.
Meanwhile, the woman who was beating the Pit was now resting her head on the pole she was using pointed down on the ground. She was relieved SOMEONE had come in to take over. She was breathing like she was going to pass out, and crying her eyes out while still screaming. How do you women manage that? The noise was deafening now. There were other guys around but keeping their distance. I got it in my mind to do one more truly healthy, deadly kick but decided upon a different area. A softer target. The infamous "ballzone" that shows itself under the tail when the tail is curled up as it was in this Pit Bull's case. The bull had large and healthy thighs so, being a man myself, I decided to give it a break and aim my kick toward the inner thigh, still hitting the ball-zone but not so directly. Maybe it's a breeder, you know?
I take a full breath, circle around to the rear end of the Pit Bull, bring back my leg (the one with the new artificial hip joint) and let my foot fly with ALL my strength into the meat of the target. BAP! I kicked that dog so hard, I KNEW if it failed, I was in the wind for sure! The pit instantly let go of the little dog and turned to see who threw the ping pong ball at its leg. Right. That second kick didn't phase him much more than the first one did. Either of those kicks on a human being would have caused serious damage depending on where it landed. Either one of those kicks would have killed the average child.
The Pit turned and looked at me briefly, but now the little dog, having been set free, was hi-tailing it into the open unit door where it lived, its owner chasing after it. I guess that Pit Bull said, the hell with me and ran towards that apt door going after the little dog. Now it's got two people on its back end and the owner of the little dog trying to grab the pit around the sides to keep it from getting into the open apartment. I helped close the door after she entered and the bull got pushed and pulled outside. Somebody showed up with a dog harness and someone was saying "it got out of it's harness".
The Pit was now standing and panting while the people were trying to put its harness back on. It was cooperating, probably feeling a little sore in the right inner hind leg at the ballzone wondering if it was ever going to have sex again. They got him into the harness and I turned to go back into the apt of the lady whose dog it was that had been attacked. She had two such dogs in that one-room studio unit she shared with her husband who was at work at the time. She stood crying, panting, and screaming, holding her hands out, pacing slowly around the room. She had blood on both her hands and blood was on the floor. The tiny dog was no where to be found. I figured it was under the bed being quiet or dead. I asked if she was ok, but all I got back were sobs, muffled screams, pacing and untargeted staring.
At this point as the screams were beginning to dissipate, as the drama was winding down, as the peripheral screams were morphing into talking and speaking drama-review narratives, I took one last look at that Pit Bull who was still looking straight ahead, still standing, still cooperating with its owner (one of the women screamers), and decided my work was done here. I made it back across the courtyard to the quiet of my own unit, shut the door, and crossed over to my raised-back, tilting leather armchair to resume watching TV and digesting my Tacos.
Addendum:
People, DON'T GET A PIT BULL. There are other kinds of dogs. FORGET the Pit Bull! If you MUST own a Pit Bull that is temperamental enough that you have to harness it to walk it, be strong enough to keep it in its harness. I know what happened. That damn Pit Bull saw that little dog. The little dog (unleashed), started that yip yip yip yip barking that little dogs do, and took off onto it, pulling the harness leash right out of the woman's hands. By the time she recovered the leash, the harness had come off the Pit as it took the little dog's neck into its mouth to teach it to never bark at Pit bulls 5 times its size.. Strength is what is required to walk a Pit Bull with a harness. The harness won't do it for you. If you are not strong enough to handle a harnessed Pit Bull, don't walk a Pit Bull in a harness. DUH!!!!!!
The lady that owned the little dog eventually went to the hospital, got her hands taped up and took the little dog with her. That's the last I heard. I haven't inquired yet, but I'm sure she's a bit shocked, but ok. The little dog is probably back under the bed cursing her dog god for having made it so small but thinking it was big like the wolves and bears she evolved from.
Thank you for letting me share.
Robert W Hamilton 6-13-2019
