Our family did something weird when it moved to this valley city; we kept the dog. Perhaps it was because this wasn’t a regular dog. It was the offspring of two police dogs that had retired. It was a purebred German Shepard. And because it was the offspring of two police dogs it had the skill and the smarts that one would expect from a police dog. This was perpetuated and developed by my mom who took an active role in the development of our newest family pet.
Namely, she used me to train the dog to be an attack dog.
To an outsider this would be a scary dog – like something you might encounter behind a large metal fence of a junk yard with a big scary sign that says, “Beware of Dog”, and you are expecting some fluffy ball of fur to run up and lick your hand but instead, just like the movies, this massive dog silently appears around the corner, staring you down, swinging the open lock in its hands while whispering, “Do you feel lucky punk?”
Keep in mind this dog was our family pet. One of the things it would like to do was to stand up on its rear legs and give you a hug. You complied of course, because you were scared for your life, but after awhile you got used to it and enjoyed having this new best friend that could rip the hand off of anybody who looked at you the wrong way.
My mom made sure of that.
A notable night to reinforce this training had me go outside and pretend to be an intruder. My mom would be inside and would raise the alarm with our dog. She then opened up the front door and said in a heightened whisper, “Get him!” I realized how serious the situation had just gotten and I ran for my life with this over 100 lb monster racing through the night without mercy. As I rounded the corner heading back to the front door I calculated that I would not be able to make it to safety so instead I jumped on top of our brand new car. I was trapped and our family pet was making doubly sure I knew it. I also just realized that I had jumped on top of our new car and left some dents in the process. However, my mom didn’t seem to mind, only calling to our dog to heel, following up with a “Good boy”.
One of the final encounters I had with any bully in that mountain top village ended up resulting in a friendship ironically. It happened that this bully and I were in the same grade and had our lockers in the same area of the school. As was the methodology of the school at the time, the lockers were mixed to allow students of a younger grade to have lockers by older students as a way to better integrate them into the school. In this particular case it was an excuse for my classmate to torment a younger student.
When I came upon this scene I immediately flared up with anger, seeing myself as some sort of vigilante, freeing the world of bullies. This was one of those times so I immediately intervened, grabbing my classmate and pulling him off of this younger student. The bully did not take a liking to this new situation so he decided to get into it with me. We both were pushing and tugging at one another until we found ourselves locked in battle, wedged into an alcove where a garbage can would go.
He wasn’t looking to back down and began to escalate things with me. He was going for my face and ripped off my chain, just before swinging his fist and breaking my nose. In retaliation I made my next move a very calculated one. I was angry and did not want to unleash the full wrath of my anger – and now I was in pain with a broken nose. I had been power lifting over the last while, pushing several hundred pounds with my legs and so I opted to utilize physics to my benefit, given the tight space we were in.
I didn’t want to fist-to-cuff him as that would end up taking its toll on the both of us – I simply wanted to end it. So I raised my left leg until my foot was level with his pelvic region. I then extended my foot and leg against his pelvic region, incorporating his genitals beneath my iron press. Then with the several hundred pounds of muscle mass pressing against his gentleman’s area I exerted my strength until I heard him let out a very painful moan and collapse under the pressure of my leg. Backing off the pressure of my leg, he fell to his knees and the altercation ended.
It would be a couple of weeks before he could walk properly again but surprisingly we ended up becoming friends out of that situation. To this day, my glasses sit crooked on my face, the result of a sideways looking nose, which serves as a reminder to me of this encounter. This was the first time that I physically fought back against a bully, noting that my closed fist never actually came in contact with that bully in the northern city. However, it would not be the last time.