Cisco was the dog who belonged to the landlords of our little house on Fourth Avenue. They were an old couple who lived in a tiny house behind our back yard. They had a front porch where Cisco laid around most of the time. He was a rather large dog, dark colored with some white on his face, a mixture of several breeds. We soon learned he was not going to be our playmate, though he didn't bother us when we played around in the back yard.
Cisco was not not particularly kid-friendly. He didn't attack us, but I just didn't like the look in his eye. It wasn't long until we found out just how quick and ferocious that lazy-seeming dog could be when he encountered what he considered his enemy. I was always glad he didn't really consider us an enemy.
In those days, officials didn't waste time making up unnecessary rules like "leash laws." Dogs wandered around, sometimes fairly far from home. They would visit around the neighborhood, and then go home, hopefully looking before crossing the street, but the streets weren't all that busy in the little town of Delano. At least Fourth Avenue wasn't. So occasionally, a stray dog would wander into our yard, and we didn't considere it a big deal.
Cisco considered it a big deal. Any other canine, large or small, was Enemy Number One. As soon as any dog came within range of his ears, eyes, or nose, he was up from that front porch and off like a barking bullet to kill if not scare the life out of the other dog. He would grab the dog by the scruff of its neck and shake it till its teeth rattled. I was sure he killed every one of them, but in retrospect I suppose he didn't really... He just scared the adventure out of them. Large or small, no dogs ever came back for more.
Then one day Mama brought home the cutest little black puppy, all fluffy and wiggly and adorable. We named her Lucy. Never having been a dog-lover, I have no idea what kind of dog she was. She was cute as a bug's ear, soft, shiny, and fun to feed. In fact, she immediately caused arguments among us kids about whose turn it was to feed or pet her.
I think we fixed a box for her in the house. However, Mama wasn't for having a house dog in that little house where we already had six people. Lucy was going to have to learn to play outside. So we took her out in the front yard to play. The front yard wasn't too big, and she played happily out there for a little while, but it was obvious she wanted to check out the street. After a few times of chasing her when she was running in the wrong direction (into the street), Mama said she was going to have to be in the back yard, and that was that.
Cisco was asleep on his porch as usual. For a few minutes he didn't wake up while we played with Lucy in the back yard. We hoped when he would awaken, he would see us playing with Lucy and realize she was not a threat to him and was not even in his territory. After all, the rent was paid on the front house, our house. This was our back yard.
Yeah, right. The instant we made enough noise to awaken Cisco, he came charging over there to kill Lucy. I backed off. Way off. I didn't love Lucy enough to get in the middle of that. But my brave brothers did their dead level best to protect our little puppy. I'm not sure how they saved her, but they did. Ray and Jim were the big heroes; little Richard told the story with a straight face.
Bottom line, we couldn't have Lucy in the back yard any more. Sadly, I don't think she lasted a week having play time in the front yard before she went into the street and got run over by a car.
And all four of us kids considered Cisco a bad mean dog after that. Daddy said, "Don't worry. One of these days he'll meet his match." I wasn't sure what that meant, but it was only a month or two till I found out.
The popular game back then was marbles. We bought some marbles in the dime store, and the boys won and collected some more at school. Jim's and Ray's shooter marbles were "agates" which are beautiful marbles in multiple colors, the coveted prizes. For those readers who only know how to play video games which had not been invented in 1956, to play marbles you take a stick and draw a big, round circle (about the size of a car tire) on the bare ground and put a bunch of marbles in the middle, keeping out your shooter marble. Then you take turns shooting the shooter marble (enclosed in your hand and your thumb is the trigger) into the middle to try to knock marbles out of the circle. You can pocket all the marbles that you knock out; they are yours. Whoever can claim the most wins. We didn't always play "for keeps" though. There were various other rules that I don't remember.
I wasn't great at marbles. It was more of a boy game, and I didn't play it at school, just in the back yard with my brothers, who always won anyway. I just happened to be out there playing with them when The Big Boxer (dog) wandered into our yard. He was short-haired, golden with a white face and feet, scarred here and there by previous encounters with dogs or people who didn't like him. We kids stopped playing and backed away from our marble game, waiting for Cisco to see him.
He was taller than Cisco, but not as thick. He just stood there by the marble circle, looking around as if the whole back yard belonged to him and he was just checking on his property. I looked toward Cisco's porch and then back at the boxer who didn't even flinch as Cisco burst forth with a loud rumble and covered the distance across the large yard in a couple of seconds. The Big Boxer just watched him come, didn't move from his position, not even a fraction. He was turned sideways to Cisco. When Cisco reached him and lunged for his throat, he still didn't make any noise, just stepped back slightly and grabbed the back of Cisco's neck and shook him hard until Cisco became like a limp, black rag, squealing like Lucy had done when Cisco had inflicted that treatment on her. Then the Boxer stopped and dropped Cisco, who fled back to his porch, whimpering.
Yes! Every one of us kids rejoiced the rest of the day. The Big Boxer simply walked away to find other adventures. We were impressed as to how calm this dog remained before and after the dog fight, though he displayed tremendous strength and skill in shaking the daylights out of Cisco. We cheered. Finally, the meanie dog who had attacked our sweet little puppy had met his match.
I'm not sure if Cisco ever attacked another dog after that. Certainly he didn't in my sight or hearing. Mama and Daddy heard the whole story over and over that night around the supper table. Mama said it wasn't a good thing to talk about at the table. Daddy just laughed. Cisco had met his match... and more.
We didn't get another dog until years later, when we had a fenced yard to keep it. We had several other dogs over the years, and one of them was a boxer.
But that is another story...
No comments:
Post a Comment