|
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
Duke was a German Shepherd's dog. In the day time his life was was lived on the end of a huge chain, at night time, behind a chain link fence. He guarded a wrecking yard and was what people referred to as a "junk yard" dog.
Duke's owner was a loud-mouthed unkempt man who loved to intimidate everyone he came in contact with. My buddy and I, loved entering the junk yard at night and removing car batteries from the large pile against the building and then resell them back again in the morning. To accomplish this feat, we had long since made friends with old Duke. It was this friendship that cost Duke his life and changed mine forever.
On one of our midnight battery raids, the owner, who was suspicious of our own supply of batteries, had placed a mark on several of the battery terminals. We did not notice this and as usual, brought the batteries in for our money. When he spotted the marks on the battery he turned old Duke on us.
Never have I seen an angrier man or a more loaded dog. Duke grabbed tightly at my friends flank. I reached out to help him and at the same time yelled out Duke's name. He stopped, looked at me and barked a friendly bark. His owner, pry bar in hand, yelled profanities at him and struck Duke with one deadly blow, right there in front of us.
Duke never attempted to bite me. He had stopped at the sound of my voice. He died for this. The very love he felt for me, the trust, these things angered his owner enough to kill him.
I believe I have never disliked any other human being to the extent I disliked that man at that moment. I also know, both Duke and I learned a lesson, too late.
When a dog gives to a person his loyalty, nothing, nor no one can change that. Unlike man, he is faithful in his giving.
I had no right to befriend Duke. All the motives were wrong. Even though I was young and felt right in this friendship, it was purely selfish on my part. Duke was caught in the middle. What ever triggered it, Duke sensed my need and desire for his friendship. I in turn gave him mine. Yet it was not right. Mine was given through greed and deceit. I needed to befriend Duke to get to the batteries. It was this betrayal that was the killing blow to Duke. His loyalty was total; my voice was enough.
Our motives must be pure. Only tragedy lies ahead of a one sided relationship between man and his dog.
To some perhaps this seems meaningless. It is not. Mans desire to manipulate and possess is a strong force. Because it cannot easily be removed it must be redirected. Duke's motivation was myself. Mine was money. His owner's was anger at the loss of both his money and his property. In his mind I had stolen Duke as a useful tool in his trade. There fore in one brutal moment he destroyed him right before my eyes. His last words to me were" there you little son of a bitch, now he's all yours." Somehow deep inside him was a pain so great at what he took as his dog's betrayal, he lashed out at both of us.
If only he could have known this dog was never really his. If only I had known he could never really have been mine.
The human control shown by the owner is one very common in man. To realize this, to admit we are all capable of brutality in one form or another, is a step forward in world of "Working Service."
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| (c) 1998 Baden K-9 Inc., Dogs and
Tactical Training , All images and materials within
this site may not be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or
transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
or otherwise, without the prior written permission of Baden K-9 Inc. &
Tactical Schools This site restructured by MediaForge Inc. |
 |