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| Pooch courtesy Photobucket |
Like so many
stories I remember this one occurred on 23rd Avenue, Oakland,
California.
There were a
bunch of us boys who hung out together but during summer vacation the gang
thinned out. The parents either went out
of town for a while or got the boys a job or some other reason some of the guys
weren’t around.
I was friends
with a boy named Billy Joe. He had a
terrier dog named Pooch, who hung out with us most of the time. Pooch was a gritty little dog and would pick
a fight with every dog he saw. He
whipped every dog he got into a fight with and he was pretty sassy.
In those days
most people let their dogs run loose and not on a leash. This one day Billy Joe went off with some
other boys and pooch was just running loose on his own.
I had gone down
to the Saturday matinee theater and was waiting with a group of people for the
box office to open. While waiting Pooch
was hanging out with us when someone came by with a small screw tail bull dog.
It didn’t take
long for Pooch to decide to whip the bull dog and he was on him in an
instant.
I was waiting for
the bull dog to start running for his life when all of a sudden Pooch was
screaming for mercy. The bull dog’s jaws
had clamped down on Pooch and was inflicting pain like Pooch had never
experienced.
After what seemed
like a long time Pooch broke loose and lit out.
As far as he was concerned the fight was over. He ran between two cars into the street and
was hit by a car and killed.
You might say
Pooch had a really bad day or even go farther say it was the worst day of his life.
I didn’t see
Billy Joe much after that for he started hanging out with some guys that were
into body building.
As far as I know
he never got another dog.
