My Hero, My Friend, My Dog

I was either eight or maybe nine years old (an eternity ago that still plays back like yesterday).

One day, being one of those "bored" type of kids, I just plain got tired of sitting around the house with nothing to do. I just wanted to go outside somewhere and be by myself (See, back before the days of cellphones and laptops, and the web, that's what we did for entertainment. We went "outside."). I even remember telling my dog "Bo" to "stay!" as I walked off. Out of the corner of my eye, he sat. Good boy.

To this day I remember how the sun glinted off of his shiny brown fur. He was the best-natured dog anywhere. And I could have sworn he was smiling.

With not having too many friends in the area that I could rightly think of (I think it was a Sunday. NOBODY was around on Sunday back then.) I decided to take a walk to find "something to do" (Also an ancient ritual)...well first I should probably pick up that walking stick.

I meandered across Coble St. Then up, through the Gym parking lot I went. Eventually, I went across Hedgecoke Drive, and round the corner to 7th street (All streets in the actual town of Borger, Texas).

It was hot, as usual, and of course no humidity could be found anywhere. My favorite kind of heat.

Along about the first alleyway (They're common in that part of Texas), I decided the bank would be a fun place to go. Even though the actual bank itself was closed on Sunday, the building housed several offices upstairs with 7 day a week access. Though they were closed too (and THAT meant no one to talk too either). I could always ride the elevator, stop it midway to the 2nd floor, pry open the doors (easier than it sounds) and read the newest graffiti.

But to my horror, as I'm coming halfway up the first block of that alley, out of the back yard of one of "those" rotten, old, nasty, weed-strewn houses (You know those houses that always get torn down to build a new sidewalk? Yup. Those types of houses!) came a vicious, barking dog that didn't have a waggy little tail to say the least! (I've been in some hairy situations with dogs maybe before and definitely since. This dog was no good. It should've never been let outside, or really even kept as any kind of "pet")

At first, I was only scared, then I saw it! NO LEASH! My fear transformed into a bone-chilling realization that I might very well be mauled to death, right here. This was it for me. "I hope my Momma's not too sad without me.", Is one thought I remember going through my mind. (Along with it: "God? PLEASE HELP ME!") Beyond that everything was just a rush of horror.

I was literally trying to rationalize how I was going to deal with this dog biting me multiple times and how bad it was gonna hurt. He was advancing, unrestrained and mean. And with his teeth bare and back-fur up, I knew enough about dogs to know he wasn't wanting to play fetch. I'd already "lost it" as far as underwear goes. It truly seemed in about 2 seconds, I was getting hurt.

Then from what appeared to be "out of nowhere"; There he was, Bo to the rescue!

He'd been following me all along!

I was immediately awed to see just how tough 40 pounds of courage and love was on that mongrel's ribs! Hi hit like a lightning bolt. The attacker couldn't do anything along the lines but what my good buddy brought to him that day. I watched with relief as Bo made the strange dog think of nothing but this little ball of fury.

Y'know, to THIS day, I still couldn't tell you what breeds were in my little mutt. But they sure were the right mix. He was small but strong. There may have been a little Pit Bull in him, due to the stripes all over him and the "bow" of his front legs. His head, though, was shaped like a Dachshund's. They're a courageous breed; Originally bred to go after badgers in their den.

Now here's why I don't tell this story too much...even though I'm now letting the whole world know what kind of a great dog he was. This'll be the last time I tell this story...It was at this point that (I'd swear to you) I 'heard' Bo say "Run boy!" (It wasn't really an audible sound. It was probably nothing more than my brains natural, logical progression of thought expressed bicamerally.) And, with a quick: "Oh I love you boy! Be safe!", I sure as hell did!

I ran faster than I've ran from many things since...all the way home! And just as soon as I was feeling so bad for "abandoning" him, that I was about to go back and get him myself, here he came prancing! I saw hardly a scratch on him. He was fine, to my relief.

I really wish I'd have known some way to really reward him. He just always chose my lap.

Thank you for letting me tell you about how great of a dog old Bo was. It sure brings back good memories for me.

And pat your old dog on the head for me too. Will you?