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I write. A lot. I post my stories on one forum I visit and I figure I might start sharing them here, based on level of interest I get.
When you get attacked by a dog stand still. Look at the ground. Make a fist. Let the dog smell your fist, let the dog get to know you.
No matter what happens, don't stare at it.
I'm walking. Dogs are barking, yapping, snarling. They throw themselves at gates and fences, trying to get up and over so they can tear my throat out. I just keep on walking.
If a dog gets you to the ground curl up in a ball. Protect your face, protect your neck. Dogs, they'll go for your neck.
The sound of barking is everywhere. Dogs howl and yap, yap, yap. Big dogs, little dogs. Some people have two or even three dogs. I just keep on walking.
They'll teach you all of this in the newspaper. They'll run features after dog attacks. Stories with diagrams and explanations in point form of what to do if a dog attacks you. Dos and Do Nots.
Dogs bark and jump. They leap at their gates. The gates rattle. I just keep on walking.
Two houses up the gate is open. The people who live there have a dog, a big one. Every morning I go this way to the station, every morning the dog comes out.
And here it comes. Barking and snarling and growling in response to all the other dogs as they yelp and whine.
The current affair shows run stories as well. They have experts, the people you see on those vet shows.
The experts say, "The kid must have run."
The kid must have screamed.
He must have shouted.
Now the kid is dead with half of his face eaten off. The family couldn't see his body because he had no face. But they don't tell you that.
These experts, what they say is to not fight back. Don't slap or hit the dog, that will just ***** it off more.
Two houses ahead the dog looks at me. It stands near the open gate and barks. And barks. And barks. Its hair stands up. Dogs don't need gel.
Tail down, it moves towards me. Eyes wild. Dogs in yards all around the neighbourhood howl and yelp.
If I wrote my own guide I'd say you'll panic. The experts say don't panic, I say you do.
This dog is brown. It moves closer. I keep on walking towards it, staring right at it. Oh how I wish for an electric prod. Zap.
My guide would say to fight back. For those ankle biter dogs just kick them. They won't come back. If they do then just put your foot on their head.
Walk away like nothing happened.
This don't isn't little. It starts to run. I just keep on walking. Dogs everywhere bark and bark and bark.
Don't get me wrong, I don't hate dogs, I really don't. I'm no fan of them but I don't hate them. I just hate the people who own them and let them roam free.
These people with their attitude of, "It doesnâ€™t bite me so it won't bite anyone."
These people who don't close their gates, who don't like the animal in their backyard, who don't walk it, well, they're ***** heads. They don't deserve any sort pet - dog or goldfish or whatever else.
The owner of this dog is old. They're in their front yard trimming the hedge and I say, Call off your dog.
They say, "He won't hurt you."
Call off your dog.
"He just doesn't like you."
Me, I've heard this all before so as the dog goes to bite me I just give it a light kick in the jaw.
In my guide I'd say how to kill a dog. How to knock one out or how to make it scared of you so it won't come back. Urban survival tips.
Of course the owner protests. Whinge, whine, whinge, whine. I've heard this all before.
Oh I'm such a horrible person. A bad, evil, wicked monster. Well, whatever. They should just learn to keep the *****ing thing on their property.
They call it off. Of course tomorrow it will come again. It will bark and snap and snarl while all of the dogs locked in their yards cheer it on.
In Africa they have lions, in the streets of my suburb it is the bored dogs that people just have run wild. Being a pet owner is more than just buying something and feeding it every once in a while.
The owner yells. She says she'll call the police, the RSPCA, her grandson. "My grandson," the old hag says as I walk past, "does kick boxing."
* * *
Dogs bark. I walk. The old lady's dog is out again, standing in the middle of the road and staring at me, starting to move towards me thinking I don't notice.
Oh what I'd give for a car to speed down the street right now and squash this stupid animal. Oh it would be even better if the old lady was going to fetch it.
Of course she is in her front yard again, pulling out weeds. She looks at me. Me the horrible man, me the monster.
Dogs yelp. Her dog, standing there on the road, starts to run towards me. Growling with its hair sticking up and tail down and eyes wild.
I say, Call off your dog.
I say, Call the *****ing thing off right now or it dies.
Across the street some lady is walking with a pram. Some old guy is hobbling with a walking frame. A six year old on the way to school. Imagine what would happen if this stupid dog pounced them.
They'd die and the media would do their little guides again. How not to get your face torn off or arm eaten by an animal someone was too thick and irresponsible to lock up.
The old bitch just tells me that her dog doesn't like me because I'm wicked. Oh you old fool.
She says, "He just doesn't like bad people."
"He wouldn't hurt anyone decent," she says.
Yeah. Whatever. The dog jumps at me and I slap it. For a second I feel like poking it in the eyes. This isn't really about the dog, this is about her.
That stupid old bitch, she calls her dog off. Finally. The kid across the street looks. Dogs bark and never shut up.
* * *
This morning the dog went to attack a kid. The kid was playing his Gameboy and didn't notice, his eyes fixed on the screen, his fingers tapping the buttons.
Of course, the old lady was gardening again. Of course, all the dogs in the area were barking. Of course, I clapped my hands and the dog turned around.
Ah, I could see it think. My nemesis.
It came at me. I kicked it. Told the old whore that if she didn't start controlling it I'd damn well do it for her. I'd call the council and tell them to take it away. I'd say it was a stray. I'd remove the collar first.
She just glares. Horrible man, I'm a horrible man.
Or, I say. I could grab it. Drag it to my car and put it in the boot. I'd drive it far away, like to the other side of the city, and then I'd just dump it. No way would she find it. Maybe it would even up with someone who actually looked after it and made sure it didn't run around trying to eat random people.
She glares and stares, calls off her dog, goes inside and looking through the curtains.
The kid, he catches up with me in the next street and says, "That dog scares me."
I say, Well, you won't have to worry about it for long.
That wasn't a lie. Right now it is late, the old lady is asleep. Like all old people she eats dinner at three thirty in the afternoon so she can catch all of those crappy game shows before going to bed. It must be about eleven or twelve.
Her gate is open, the dog asleep on the lawn. No dogs are barking, not at this time.
Of course, I have a plan. I bought a single sachet of dog food from the supermarket on the way home, this is the kind you see advertised on television. This old lady just feeds the dog her scraps so he'll probably go for it.
I open the sachet. I kneel down and pour it onto the footpath. It stinks. The dog stirs in its sleep. Then I add that extra special something to the sticky pile of feed and clap my hands real loud.
The dog wakes up and sees the food, sees me, sees the food. The food, of course, is much more interesting. I can wait, the dog decides.
It comes up and starts eating. Sure enough, two minutes later it is asleep and full and I'm carrying it to my garage.
* * *
The old lady down the street, that bitch who is out in her garden every morning, lost her dog a month ago.
She put up signs. She says he ran away. If only she knew the truth. That stupid old hag, she shouldn't have had a dog in the first place. Having saggy tits doesn't give you the right to do as you please.
Responsibility doesn't disappear with age. Of course, every morning she still looks at me. She mutters, "Horrible man." She mutters, "*****." Oh if only she knew.
Dogs bark and bark and bark, locked in their yards with no exercise, irresponsible people. Owners who don't realise they've bought a predator and need to treat it as such. Owners who just let the animal exercise itself, even though kids are playing in yards nearby and people walk by and get attacked, inspiring articles in the paper and stories on the current affair shows.
Right now it is late. The old lady is asleep. I walk to the garage with the another sachet of food I bought. Plus that something extra.
Inside there is barking, growling, snarling, yelping. Just non-stop. Day or night it goes on and on.
I open the sachet. I put in the something special, my extra ingredient. Secret herbs and spices.
Then I open the door a crack and fling in the food. The dog goes for it right away. On the floor is a heshin bag soaked in blood. The eyes of the dog are wild and red. Dried blood is all over its fur.
As crazy as this canine is, it falls asleep pretty much as soon as it stops eating. I go into the garage. I pick it up under one arm and grab a plank of timber off the bench.
Then I walk outside. No one is around, no dogs bark, no birds sing. I walk up to the lady's house.
Her gate is still open. I walk to the window. I put the dog down and then I smash the window.
Inside, she screams.
Inside, she yells.
Inside she says something about getting her gun which she says she keeps under her pillow.
So what I do is clear away the glass more, pick the dog up and literally throw it inside.
When it hits the floor it wakes up. It hears the woman's screaming. Its eyes are wild and mad and bloody and psycho. It bolts further into the house and I start to walk away.
The woman screams and shrieks and shouts, of course she does. I stop by her gate and yell, "Get some *****ing responsibility!"
This stupid old bitch with that attitude of oh, it doesnâ€™t bite her so it won't bite no one else. This stupid old bitch who lets her dog attack kids and oldies and whoever else goes past.
I walk. Back to my house, back to bed. I'm half way home and the woman is still screaming and her dog still barking when I hear a gun shot.
No more barking.
If you don't know what you want you end up with a lot of stuff you don't.
Reads like Chuck Palahniuk. Nice ending.
For if one gave, he dared assert
He knew that man was repentant
For many a man is so hard of heart
He cannot weep even though he suffers sorely
That's sick! I love it ^_^.
Very nice. I am very impressed.
<div class='quotetop'>QUOTE</div><div class='quotemain'>You can write some simple noobish of your own, however, by slamming your face into your keyboard
It reminds me alot of Stephen King's early work when he wrote as Richard Bachman.
Thanks for the offering.
you should submit it to a magazine!
wWWwwAaaaAAgggGGGhHHHhhh!!!! = DeAth
Nice writing, keep it up.
This type of writing has intrigued me. I do hope to see more work from you, it's awesome.
omg i thought you were talking about a personal experiance. im like she killed that dog!!! i would hunt the lady down and beat her into submition.
my dogs are awsome, BERNESE MOUNTAIN DOGS never bark at strangers. we have a fence that they can see though so they can see everything and they never bark. there a laid back breed too. my fence is always crowded with little kids petting my dogs after they get of school.
take note everyone.........
get a open fence so the dog can see everything, make sure it gets aquanted with strangers. sad to see agressive dogs.
i love dogs :wub:
i love my dogs :wub:
its nice to come home after a long day to my loveable beasts :wub:
my dogs are the biggest sucks in the world :wub:
You thought it was real? That is exactly the response I aim for. It isn't designed to offend people, although some people always manage to crack a teary... but I like reeling people in.
This is the story I used to get into a writing course for next year. I managed to reel in the selectors enough...
If you don't know what you want you end up with a lot of stuff you don't.