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by Rodney E.J. Chang

Copyright 2014 Creative Frontiers International, Inc.



The front door is open. Master is too busy arguing with my caretaker, his mate. I’m short, even for a dachshund. I’m bad. I’m smarter than he thinks. And there is that little old woman walking the big boy dog. Before any of the humans wise up, it’s time for some fun!



The little brown hot dog on four legs dashes out the door, scampers down the front steps, and sprints down the drive way. That only takes five seconds flat, regardless of its short, skinny, chicken-drumstick-like legs.



All her owner can do is shout at the dog, “Hershey! Get back here!”



Sorry, loser, you’re too late. I’m programmed and in motion like a guided missile. Big baby dog-on-a-leash, I’m on you!



“Hershey, No! Here girl!” His wife, the dog’s caretaker, yells in vain.



 I can see the surprise in the young kid’s eyes. His master is frail and firming up on the leash. Her eyes tell me she’s also got caught off guard. Here I come!



The ten-year old (70 in dog years) dachshund sprints into the street and crosses over. She dashes towards the other dog, snarling and growling as fiercely as her little vocal cords can generate. She bears her gnashing teeth with the glare of hatred at the puppy, a huge husky.



Surprised you, didn’t I? Beware of my growl, my sharp teeth! You’re tied to a rope, you know.




Suddenly the big, muscular dog bolts forward. Growling back in dog talk,



So you want a piece of me, do yah?!



The tremendous power surge strips the leash out of its feeble owner’s hand. It’s so strong that it jerked her forward, causing the old lady to lose her balance and fall on the sidewalk. The rough concrete slams into her knee and bleeding starts. Not important to either dog, however. In fact, both animals aren’t even aware that the woman had fallen and was hurt. They’re locked in their own world, confronting each other.



The intimidating eyes of the dachshund turn into terrified eyeballs.



Oh, oh, leash loose. Other doggie free! I’m history if he gets me!




The puny weiner slams the brakes, skidding awkwardly to a halt, regains its stance before the husky can sink its jaws into it, and then tears back towards its house for safety – yelping.



Both dogs take off across the street, the male husky in chase of the dachshund. The husky barked,



Who the hell do you think you are, coming on to me like that? I’m going to get you, you old bitch!



It doesn’t look good to the little dog’s master and his wife, the dog caretaker. By the time the dogs race to the other side of the narrow street, it’s obvious that the little short legs aren’t going to outrun the longer, muscular, young ones. The towering husky is almost on top of the short ground-hugging dachshund.




Then the view is obstructed for the dachshund’s owners. The canines are behind the car parked on the driveway’s incline, obstructing a view of the dachshund and the other dog from the viewpoint of her owners.



The master is still immobilized by the shock and disbelief of the unfolding event. He can only think of one thing.



This time it’s game over for that trouble-making mutt!



The frightened couple hear a shrilling sharp cry from their pet. It sounded like their dear pet just suffered a bite.



“Don’t worry, he only wants to play!” calls out the fallen old woman to the two at the door with their mouths ajar.



Is that woman senile or what? thinks the husband, with astonishment.



After all, everyone can hear the tiny dog squealing in anguish, as if attempting to fend off an attacker determined to take its life. It is a scene of uncontrolled mayhem. It sure didn’t sound like “he only wants to play.”



“Get out of my way! You’re hopeless!” shouts the wife, as she pushes the immobilized husband aside from the door, then storms down to where the barking and Hershey’s hideous whines are coming from. She is indeed the dog’s caretaker. Walks it, picks up the poop, feeds it, bathes it, pets it, brushes its teeth, gives it a manicure, and puts it to bed on a regular basis. And now also rescues it.



The courageous wife manages to grab the little one away from the attacking bully. She never considers how the aggressive animal could turn upon her as she attempted to snatch away its prey.



The caretaker glares down at the huge husky, making like it was about to jump up at her to get to the dachshund, and screams with an authoritative voice,



“GO! Get out of here! NOW!”



The big dog understands when a human is angry and realizes that it’s on that human’s territory. The husky stares intensely at the woman’s fearless and unwavering stern eyes, and then gradually backs off. Having lost the psychological face off, the massive puppy trots back across the street to its master, who is still calling it to come back to her.

那只大狗知道人的脾气,也知道它现在跟这个人类有了地盘冲突。它紧张地盯着这个女人无畏而坚定的眼神,然后逐渐退却了。 心理优势没了之后,这只大狗崽穿过街道,回到了一直呼叫着它的主人身边。


“Here, boy! Come here, Bobby!”



By now the old woman is once again on her feet and quickly grabs the leash when her pet had returned and was within range.



“I’m sorry our dog ran out into the street. The door was open…”



The dachshund was the aggressor and had caused the woman to fall. There is a leash law in the state of Hawaii and if this went to court (What if the woman had broken her hip and a huge medical bill was the consequence?), Hershey’s owners would lose.



On the other hand, what if the little dachshund had been killed on its owner’s property?



“I’m sorry I let go of the leash,” apologized the wounded stroller. “My Bobby has grown so strong.”



“Oh, are you O.K., Mrs. Tamura?”



“I’m fine… just a bit bruised. I’ll be O.K.”



Things looked good that the two female neighbors had made up by apologizing to each other. Without it being said, both parties agreed it was nobody’s fault. Shit happens, so goes the saying.



I’m so glad to be back in the house and safe, thinks the dachshund. But oh, now the pain is really bad! And I can’t walk on this leg that is bitten!



Eighteen-year old daughter Rochelle, emerging from her bedroom and into the living room, spots “her” dog (the girl, at age 9, got Hershey as a puppy) and exclaims, “Look, Hershey’s hurt! She can’t walk on one front leg! She’s limping. And there’s a deep bite mark on her leg. What happened? Oh, Hershey....”



The teenager starts crying as she walks over and bends down to pet the wounded animal. The small dog looked up at her with its inherently sad-looking dachshund eyes. Acquainted with the behavior of the little rascal, Rachael quickly sized up the situation and then said,



“O.K., who left the door open?!”



Her father did. He felt guilty, even inadequate. So he didn’t answer his daughter but instead turned his attention down at the wounded animal and said sternly,



“STUPID DOG! When will you ever learn? This time you got what you deserved. Bad dog!”



Looking up while holding up its damaged leg– obviously pressure applied on it elicited pain – the sad-eyes expression of the dachshund registered with the master that it comprehended that it was getting scolded for misbehavior. He knew the dog

did understand what “bad dog” meant. But he wasn’t sure about the dog knowing the meaning of “stupid.” He did speculate however, that from the tone of his voice, the dog got the message that “stupid” was not praise.



None of the humans could read the dog’s mind when it thought,



Nobody calls me stupid!



As things turned out, the dachshund survived the wound and was fortunate to be able to walk again.



But does this breed learn from its mistakes? Does misfortune turn into wisdom?



The next month, same scenario. Inadvertently left opened door. Same fragile elderly lady and big bad dog on a leash being walked across the street.



What would little Hershey do? Yes, you guessed it.



Loud angry barks directly from the front door, then dashing down the steps and driveway on a beeline to the larger dog with longer legs – and fangs.



This time, will the old woman be able to hold on tighter and win out over the weight of that young dog, still gaining in size, weight, and power– as opposed to his master’s declining physical strength?



Hershey, bless her brave little heart, guessed not!



Stupid dog?



It has to be presumed that the dachshund, this time, had heard the car coming down the street. Dogs can estimate distance from the volume of sound. Remember how as you walked pass a house, a dog laid in wait behind a fence until the very second that you were close to it, then barked ferociously, thereby startling you? So just as it can gauge how far a pedestrian is, so can it tell how far a car is that is approaching its position.



The old woman had no chance to hold on to the powerful canine – just like the last time. The husky barked at the charging, puny, hot dog on four chicken drumsticks. Then it snarled,




This time I’m going to kill you, old lady! Forget those poor excuses for legs. This time I’m going to rip open your damn tiny throat! Then I’m going to tear off one of your short skinny legs and chew on it for a snack!



Just within feet of the huge dog, now again tearing away from the grasp of the weak woman, the dachshund once again did a 360-degree rotation, and then tore back towards the other side of the street. The big dog followed in hot pursuit, its full attention on its intended prey.



You’re dead meat this time, grandma! it ferociously growled.



Oh yeah? Well catch me if you can, big boy! the little dog barked back.



The small dog’s burst of speed across the street was in time. Just as it had timed it. Not so for the pursuing husky. It got hit straight on by the oncoming car. There was a piercing yelp upon impact. Then all was quiet.



The panting dachshund hopped the porch’s steps and was back in the house. Nobody from the residence had seen what had just occurred out on the street. A previous gust had rushed up the driveway and pushed open the door that was carelessly left slightly open. After the dog had reentered, a wayward breeze closed the door shut. None of the humans were in attendance this time. Hershey’s caretaker was in the laundry room, her husband was at work, and their daughter had left for summer school.



Now who’s a stupid dog? the little brown doggy thought as it settled in on its fluffy cushion in a kitchen corner, tenderly licking her healing leg. Since the small laundry room was an extension of the kitchen, Hershey’s caretaker spotted the dog’s return to its resting quarters.



“Having a nice day, Hershey?”



Of course, dogs can’t answer back. The dachshund merely looked up at the woman with its innately expressive, sullen eyes. Then she licked the outside of her mouth with her tongue.



“Oh, want a snack, girl?”



As the dachshund chewed on a piece of tasty beef jerky, with its long keen ears, it could hear the old woman howling outside on the street.




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