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His name was Pal and he was our dear friend and protector for fifteen years. Although this took place about 70 years ago, I have never forgotten him.
Where we grew up, some people raised dogs for pit fighting, a cruel sport attended by morons. Of course it was illegal, and the police tried their best to eliminate it and when they heard of a scheduled fight, they'd raid it.
When the dog owners heard about an impending raid, it was their practice to go out into the woods and let the dogs loose. Later, they would round them up again. However, once in awhile a dog would escape.
My father was a mail carrier in this rural area. One day, a medium sized black and white pit bull started to follow him around his route. The dog was curious and seemed to want human company, but despite my father's coaxing, he would come near but not close enough to touch.
My father began carrying scraps of food to give to this dog, which he did for several weeks. Still the dog never came any closer. He just followed at a distance and then without warning he would disappear around a corner or back into the woods.
Soon after, my father saw the dog get hit by a car. Despite my father wanting to help, the dog ran away into the woods. That night at dinner, my father announced that if at all possible, and if the dog was still alive, he was going to catch that dog and bring him home.
The next day when the mail truck came to pick my father up, the dog was still walking with him. With some hamburger meat, he and the driver managed to entice the dog into the truck.
Back at the post office, my mother waited with the car and the rest of the hamburger which was enough to get the skittish dog in.
And so Pal came into our lives.
When our cat had kittens, Pal was enthralled. He would carefully pick up a kitten and carry it off, then lay with it between his paws while it slept or he washed it. To our surprise, mother cat trusted him enough to allow this. After awhile, he just as carefully returned the kitten to the basket.
In winter we used to slide down a hill on our sleds. Whenever it snowed we'd try to leave Pal in the house, but he always managed to get out and would come flying down to where my sister and I were sliding. We'd rush to push off our sled before he got to us, which was his cue to chase us and tug us off our sled. Without us steering, the sled would continue to the bottom of the hill which meant trudging down in the snow after it.
Taking Pal home did no good because he would raise such a ruckus with his excited barking, and rushing window to window, that someone would let him out and his fun (not ours) would start again.
As I grew older and began dating, I could count on Pal to be a great judge of character. If he didn't take to a guy, it always turned out that Pal was right -- the guy was a jerk.
When he was about 18 years old, he was so feeble he could not go up or down the stairs to the yard. My parents were going on vacation and my father asked that if the dog was no better, would I take him to the doctor's and have him put to sleep. Pal got so bad he couldn't walk at all, and I had to carry him up and down the stairs. I knew how much my father loved that dog, so to save my father the painful task, I forced myself to do it. Even now my eyes fill with tears. I cried all the way there and back.
When my father returned we exchanged a wordless look. That was the only time I ever saw my very stoic father cry.
Pal was a dog who came from a bad beginning, a dog who'd been needlessly mistreated and abused. If he hadn't escaped, he wouldn't have lasted long in that life.
But once in a good home -- our home -- he became the most wonderful friend and companion and brought our whole family many, many years of joy and love.
Ruth Harding
A REAL "PAL"
Anybody who doesn't know what soap tastes like never washed a dog. ~Franklin P. Jones
If your dog is involved in an aggressive fight with another dog or animal, never try to stop it by grabbing onto your dog or the other animal. You may easily be bitten. If your dog is not wearing a leash, a glass or bucket of cold water dumped over the fighters or a loud noise may halt the situation long enough for you to separate the two dogs.
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