Dogs from the neighborhood often followed me, formed a pack around me and walked along, and that's the way it was that day. We were on the ridge, and this biting dog had found us.
The biting dog was at least part German shepherd, and he was way bigger than any of the dogs in "my" pack. The biggest dog and best fighter of my pack was Peewee, a sweet and skinny bloodhound. Peewee had guile and was a terrific fighter, but fortunately he didn't have to fight that day.
I didn't realize what was happening, but that pack of dogs slowly formed a scraggly crescent formation in front of me, with Peewee in the middle. One by one, they wobbled into place. I later realized that they were ready to protect me.
The shepherd looked at them for a few seconds, then sat down. He looked around, uncertain what to do. After a standoff for a couple of minutes, the offender trotted off. Strangely (and happily), I never saw him again.
We finished our walk unimpeded.
P.S.: You may find the blog entry on Old Joe on this blog. The Bryant family had owned Old Joe, and they later owned Peewee, too.
EDITOR@WORK blog entries
Blog entries from The Auto Racing Journal
(a book of great stories about the Intimidator)
• Then Junior Said to Jeff...
(the book of great NASCAR stories)
More blog entries by Tom Gillispie
• Advice for be and would-be novelists
Anecdotes by Tom Gillispie