Dumb guy

Not ten minutes into our walk, this gigantic man turned the corner and began walking towards me. I secretly hoped to myself, "Please, please don't stop us... just let... me... walk..." just as the man exclaimed,

 "NICE Pit Bull!" 

 I stopped and gave him "the look" again. I sighed softly and, in a kind but firm voice, said, "She isn't a Pit Bull. She's--" 

"I had two of those, you know. My stud had a 35-inch head width. He was a blue nose Pit with one blue and one brown eye. He was a bad-ass motherf'er." I was silent and watched as his eyes wandered over my head, as if remembering. 

"This is a Canary dog. She's not a Pit Bull."

His head finally came down from the clouds, as he looked me straight in my eyes, down at Zohar, and back up to me. I began to explain what exactly was a Canary dog but stopped mid sentence as he reached towards Zohar with one finger. I wasn't sure what he was about to do, so I stopped his hand with my own, saying, 

"Sir, please don't touch my dog without asking me." Squaring up, I continued. "If you want to touch her, please offer the back of your hand to her and allow her to come to it and sniff it if she wants."

"What's the big deal? Will he bite?" The man in his ugly red sweater and black boots asked, pulling his hand away.

"No. She doesn't bite. I just prefer--" I stopped as the man pushed his hand towards Zohar, who did not sniff it, and he pushed it closer, then actually... grabbed her head and squished her face skins together from side to side. Thinking what sort of psycho this man was, and somehow keeping myself together, I began to walk away, Zohar quietly following. She wasn't sure what to do or think until I asked her to follow me. 

"Where ya goin?!" The man exclaimed. He followed me and abruptly stopped in front of me. I began to feel a little threatened. 

"Excuse me sir. I asked you to first ask me if you could touch my dog, and you didn't. I asked you to offer your hand, not hold her head. You would never know if my dog was aggressive, and it would be your hand, or even face, that you'd lose, and you would be the only one at fault. You better be glad my dog is actually nice." As I spoke, the man's eyes began to wander again, not over my head this time, actually below my head -- yes, to my chest and down and then back up again. Here I was, standing up against a man probably three times my weight, either death or psychotic or both, who is now checking me out. "I have to be going. Next time you might not be so lucky."

He reached out for my arm. He grabbed my elbow and held it tightly. "Oh, I'm lucky," he whispered. I pulled my arm away.

Zohar broke her sit and raised her hackles. A low, formidable sound bellowed from her mouth. She gave three quick, low, teethy barks and snapped the air, lunging at the man, with no intention to bite unless he gave further reason to. The man immediately backed off and turned his back on me. "Not a Pit Bull, f'ing right, bitch." He turned his back to me, leaving a space as he walked around Zohar, and walked off, swaying his shoulders from side to side, trying to look like a tough guy. 

"Darling, would you like me to call the Police?"

I turned to find where that came from. To my left, a small blue and white home with an elderly lady was standing out on her porch. 

"I saw the whole thing! Did he threaten you?" With her soft, crackling voice, she zipped up her coat and came down the stairs to talk with me. Zohar's ears went down immediately. Her whole entire body turned into a submissive lump as the elderly lady neared us, and her tail softly wagged at the tip. The lady told me she had Rottweilers when she was younger and they always protected her. She offered her hand to Zohar who sniffed it and licked it. 

The cops were notified of a possibly dangerous man in black pants, black boots, and a red sweater. I told them the details and although nothing happened, they said they would be on the lookout.

Zohar proved to me that she was a quality female within her breed. Stable, discerning of character, recognizing, understanding, even. But she doesn't take any crap and she demonstrated that to me this morning. She didn't bite but gave good warning that she would have if the threat grew after the warning. Though Zohar is quieter and sweeter than Zenith, her sister, I feel just as protected and safe with Zohar as I do with her sister. 

Love my Presas.

F. Glory By Night || Fawn Verdino Perro de Presa Canario (Dogo Canario/Canary Dog)

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Image, Story © reinafawn