Today started out like any other day, which in my house could mean anything. I spent most of the morning folding laundry with my husband. We had decided to finally tackle the clothes mountain that had taken over my bedroom. The day was going pretty well. Until.......I had to walk Gunther.
If you read my previous blog, I had sworn to never, ever, ever walk Gunther again. He was too heavy for me to hold and I was afraid that he would get away from me and possibly go after someone, someday.
Well unfortunately today was that day. I wasn't even supposed to be walking Gunther. Both my husband and oldest were home. However, my husband was fast asleep after a particularly busy day at his firehouse and my son had been complaining about his legs hurting. I now believe the whole leg story was just a clever ploy to get out of walking Gunther since he is also intimidated by his sheer size and strength. So, I set off to walk Gunther with my two youngest sons. The walk was fine. We took our regular routes and let him smell the neighborhood smells and visit his favorite spots. We even walked a little longer to get some exercise. We had just come back when my boys decided to run around to the front of the house. I was just about to open my back gate, when I saw the man who lives in the house two doors down from me coming down the alley. (notice i didn't call him neighbor) But, that's another post in itself.
Gunther, who REALLY doesn't like this man, decided that today would be the day that he would relieve this man of his pants, shirt, shoes and possibly his esophagus. It happened in a split second. Gunther lunged at the guy and of course the man starts to run. Bad Move! This just excites Gunther and he gives chase. I try to get a better grip but there is absolutely nothing I can do at this point. I fall to the ground, the searing pain in the leg reminds me of every cut and scrape I have ever had in my childhood all rolled into one. But, I can't focus on that right now. I have to get Gunther. I see that the leash has snapped, is laying on the ground and he now has the man up against a wall. The man is yelling. And, I am watching Gunther inch ever closer to the him. I stand up and yell to the man, "Don't Move"!! I give the "SIT" command and he Gunther actually obeys. "Oh, Thank God", I think to myself. I put the leash back together and get it securely around Gunther's neck. I look down at my capri's and see that the right side is in shreds. I can imagine only what my knee looks like underneath the tattered fabric. The man quickly gathers his groceries that he tossed and says something to me about owning a dog that I can't handle. For a split second I think of letting the leash slip. I know, I know Bad Karma. Clearly he doesn't realize that I may have saved his life.
I said a quick prayer of thanks that the situation wasn't worse. The man still has all of his body parts and while I am scraped, bruised and I have a sprained thumb, I am also okay. I hobbled up the backstairs, manage to get Gunther back into his crate in the basement and come upstairs. I wake up my husband and point to my knee. I tell him what happened and he felt really horrible. I go into the bathroom to check my knee and yes, it is as bad as it feels. I cleaned it with soap, water and peroxide. Muffling my screams with every pour. I covered it with gauze and replayed the scene over and over in my head. Each time seeing how Gunther, having every opportunity to bite the man, didn't. I then realized that Gunther wasn't trying to bite him. He was only trying to keep him away from me. It is in an English Mastiff's nature to be protective of his family. I know for sure that I can't survive another incident. I know my poor knees can't. I think this is the first time, I was glad to have big legs.The extra padding surely saved me from breaking something. And while I can breathe a sigh of relief that I won't be getting sued, there is still the trouble with Gunther. If we are going to remain one big happy family, he is going to have to be thoroughly and professionally trained. Soon! If that isn't arranged in the next couple of days.....
Anybody want a 190lb. Mastiff? Time for Gunther to take a trip. (shhhh, don't tell my husband!)
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| The Aftermath |
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