DON'T TAKE SMOOCH!!

I was strolling with Smooch in the small village square. He was being really good in spite of people milling around us. He came along quietly, sniffing here and there and not pulling on his leash as he is prone to do when he sees other interesting humans that he could maybe smell, or lick, or award some love nips. I was proud of my huge doggie.

I heard the motorcycles before I saw them. I turned to look as they rode up the street. Damn! They were rolling too close to where we were standing. Smooch loves to run with bikes. I tightened my grip on his leash.

The bikes made a U-turn and roared off in the other direction, and what I feared is exactly what happened. Smooch lunged to the chase. I braced myself, yelling at him to STOP!, and clenched with both hands onto the sturdy, plastic handle of his long leash, which all of a sudden seemed to be longer than normal. Then he was dragging me, but I was determined to not let go. I had to run to keep from falling; hollering his name to COME, praying that the leash wouldn’t break.

The bikes took the corner, and Smooch covered the small, grassy patch beside the curb with two bounds, but, thankfully, his leash got caught up on a waist high picket fence that separated the grass from the sidewalk. There were young men standing there, and I saw two of them quickly grab at Smooch and bend towards the fence. I couldn’t really gage how the dog reacted because 3 or 4 of the group walked in front of me at that moment, blocking my sight and my rush to reach my runaway. I figured the first two were untangling his leash and I pressed the button that rolls the excess length back in, which would haul him to me. I was still trying to politely move around the lads in my road, calling out ‘Excuse me!’

My heart skipped a beat when the leash hook snapped back into the handle EMPTY!

Oh no!! They had unhooked Smooch instead of just freeing him! If my strong doggie could squirm out of their hands, he would take off after the bikes again!

Forget being polite!! I pushed at the guy standing closest to where I was, and he turned towards me, avoiding my eyes by looking over my head, hardly budging. It seemed to be deliberate. What the....??

I shoved again, craning to peer around him. What I saw stopped my breathing– the two who had unsnapped Smooch were towing him the other way!!!

"Hey!” I bellowed. “Hey – what are you doing?? That’s my dog!!!” This time I smacked the dude in front of me – hard! There was no wondering now; he and his buddies were purposely not only obstructing my path, but were attempting to hinder my view of what was happening. Frantically dodging this way and that let me catch glimpses of Smooch braking and pulling backwards, struggling to escape these strangers. The men lifted his front paws off the ground; they were half carrying him, and would soon be out of my sight altogether!

I heard a voice remark that such a huge pit makes a good, mean dog in the ring. Panic squeezed my gut! This was a set-up!! They had targeted my Smooch – they were stealing my sweet doggie to make him a fighter!!

I went ballistic!! Someone was holding my arms to keep me from following. I pulled, I pushed, I twisted and jerked and started to kick...and I SCREAMED Smooch’s name... and because they were holding me fast, I SCREAMED again, and kept screaming....and I woke up from one of the worst nightmares I have ever had in my life.

The emotions were so strong that nausea interfered with my morning coffee. The day’s activity mellowed things out, but the dream lingered. I lost count how many times I hugged my doggies.

When I got into bed last night, Smooch came into my room. He put his big head on my mattress next to my face, licked my nose, then settled down on the floor, as close as possible to where I was lying without actually getting up beside me. One would almost think that he had experienced the same nightmare.

I fell to sleep with my hand hanging down, touching his ears. I didn’t hear when he left for his couch where he normally spends the night, and where I found him this morning. He looked up as soon as I stepped into the kitchen, yawned widely, and I swear there was a doggie-grin. I could imagine his reassuring drawl. “You okay now? We’re all still here, Cupcake.”

Yes, yes, I know - my imagination. But I felt it, so it was real, and my doggie’s caring...and even just his being here... made me SMILE.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.