“Jim! Yo, Jim!”
I stood just inside Jim’s gate and called him because I know he has a dog that has been known to bite.
“Hey, Dennis,” Jim called, as he opened his front door.
“Grow-w-r-r!” his dog said, as he made a rush for me.
I leaped over the fence just in time to avoid getting bit.
“I’m sorry about Spike,” he said. “I’ve tried to train him and even took him to obedience classes but it’s done no good. He’s a good watch dog but he is a biter.”
“There’s nothing else you can do?”
“The veterinarian tells me if I have him neutered that maybe it will tame him down. I hate to castrate any animal but I guess that’s the only thing left to try.”
Yesterday I went over to Jim’s house. I arrived at the same time as the yard man with his weed-whacker and rake.
“I wouldn’t go in there,” I told the yard man. “That dog is a bad dog. He bites.”
“Yeah, he’s done bit me twice,” the yard man said, as he opened the gate. “When Mr. Jim called he said that he took the dog to the vet to have him fixed. He says that will gentle him down.”
“It would sure gentle me down,” I said. “I’m staying outside though, just in case.”
The yard man went up to the door and knocked. When the door opened Spike came out growling and snarling. He caught the yard man near the gate and started chewing on him.
“Down Spike! Bad dog!” Jim yelled as he ran up and pulled the dog away.
“I am so sorry about that,” he told the yard man. “I just had him castrated last week.”
“You done old Spike wrong,” the yard man said. “Every time he’s bit me I knew he wasn’t interested in sex. Instead of what you done to him you should have just had his teeth pulled.”
