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February 15, 2006
the hounds of hell
I have had an almost life long fear of German Shepard. It seemed quite rational until recently. Here’s some background.
When I was a little girl my cousin had a German Shepard puppy. We were visiting from Wisconsin and I was allowed to take the dog for a walk. My mom and aunt followed behind me to keep an eye on me because my mother was afraid the dog was too strong for me to keep control. I hate it when she is right.
I had wrapped the leash several times around my wrist and was keeping up with the dog just fine until it saw a cat and decided to have a snack. It took off down the street dragging me along the sidewalk behind him. I couldn’t let go because of the stupid leash being wrapped around my wrist so many times. By the time the dog stopped running I had a lovely road rash up the entire right side of my body. I still have scars from it. That moment started the ball in motion.
My other aunt and uncle had German Shepard guard dogs that they kept at their business. They kept one of the dogs at their house too. When we would visit them they would lock the dog in the basement because it seemed quite vicious. Now mind you, I never once saw the dog. It was always in the basement when we were there so I just assumed it was always down there because it was evil. It never occurred to me that it saw the light of day after we left. The door to the basement was in their kitchen and I remember being a very little girl and having the dog lunge at the door ferociously barking, clawing and scraping - trying to get me as I would walked by. I would scoot by quickly as possible terrified by what I assumed was a trained killer, foaming at the mouth, lusting for small child blood – the hound of hell. That perception coupled with my obscure fear of basements turned this dog into a beast of mythic proportion.
When I was about 17 the dog finally died. When we visited their house afterward, I couldn’t help myself, I had to open the basement door – or the gate to hell. The door was one of those hollow wood doors and there was a huge hole where the dog had scratched right through the first layer of wood and had come quite close to penetrating the outer layer. It sent a shiver up my spine knowing that he had come so close to escaping – to kill me. I closed the door soundly and never looked back.
My fear of the German Shepard had been soundly planted and I would just about shrivel up and die upon encountering one. Until several months ago when for some reason my mother and I were discussing dogs and the topic of the killer Shepard came up.
My mother didn’t understand my fear at all. I gently reminded her of the dog that had dragged me down the street, which she had all but forgotten. She seemed to empathize and then asked me what else could have made me so afraid of this particular breed of dog when I love animals so much. So I said Aunt Sonjia and Uncle Tom’s German Shepard. She asked – The ones they kept at their business? You never even saw any of them.
I replied rather snappishly – No, of course not. The one they had at home. The one they locked in the basement. God, how could you forget that creepy thing?
My mother laughed outright at me.
I was incensed – What is so funny? I demanded to know.
That thing was vicious.
This made her laugh even harder. I was getting more and more angry and told her to stop laughing at me and tell me why this was so damn funny to her.
Apparently it is funny because the hound from hell, the murdering beast was actually a very hyper active, annoying, yappy – Beagle. They only locked him the basement when we came over because he was such a pest.
So, it looks like I have actually been afraid of Beagles for the last 20 some years.
Savage beasts!
Posted by bugg at February 15, 2006 02:09 PM
Comments
haha.
Posted by: melanie at February 15, 2006 04:03 PM
Aside from being funny, that's amazing that you child-mind made the connection between the dog that drug you down the sidewalk, and the unseen evil in the basement!
This is the kind of story that really makes me want to be a Child Therapist!
Posted by: Robin at February 15, 2006 08:03 PM
Damn those beagles and their sweet brown eyes!
BTW, I freeze solid when I see a German Shepard, or Rottweiler, or anything that looks vicious. They should come with 'safety locks'.
Posted by: Mona Buonanotte at February 16, 2006 08:18 AM
Beagles are truly ferocious creatures you know. They will whine, dig, sniff and whine even more to get their point across. ;p
Posted by: epicurist at February 16, 2006 12:34 PM
Actually, I have a shphard cross breed. She's the runt and 15 and a big sap, but I completely understand where the fear comes from.
Posted by: epicurist at February 16, 2006 12:35 PM