Whitesburg KY

Biting dog was taught a lesson

Sometimes, but not often enough, we let our thoughts leisurely drift back through time, back over water that has already cascaded down over the falls of life.

We may stand behind this waterfall of life and faintly see things which transpired long ago. Sometimes we see things which are catastrophic or sad, but sometimes we may see things which are comical or perhaps odd.

I remember one time as a young boy, my stepmom sent me to the store about a quarter of a mile away. Some of the neighborhood boys were playing softball behind the Blackey train depot. I wasn’t allowed to go outside our fenced-in yard to play with any of my friends, and they weren’t allowed to come inside the fence. I figured I could spare a few minutes to play with them, so I joined in the fun.

I always liked to pitch instead of hitting the ball. There was a young boy who had a little black and white dog, which would sneak up on you from behind and bite you on the calves of the legs. As I was about to pitch the ball, he grabbed me by the heel of one of my feet.

Instead of pitching the ball, I wheeled around and threw it at the dog. I missed the dog, so I started chasing it. I chased that poor little mutt till its tongue was hanging out. It finally hid from me, so I finished my errand. But after that, it never did try to bite me again. If it saw me coming down the street, it would run and hide.

On another occasion, the boy who owned the dog walked out onto the bridge which joins Blackey with Route 7. He was so mean that he probably had to sneak up on the dipper to get a drink. He had a cat in his hands as he walked out on the bridge. When he got out over the water, he just threw the cat into the river and walked back off the bridge.

I watched the poor cat as it tried to swim. It was going around in circles as if it could only use its legs on one side. Finally, I couldn’t stand to watch it any longer. I ran down the riverbank and out into the water.

By then the hapless cat was barely moving. I carried it back to the bank where I laid it down on some dry sand. I didn’t know what else to do with it and I knew better than to take it home.

I went back to check on it later, expecting it to be stiff as a poker, but the cat was nowhere to be found. Maybe it hadn’t used up all of its nine lives. I felt good anyway, because I hadn’t just stood there and let it drown.

I was just a little towhead on my way to the store, but to this day I can still see that poor cat trying its best to swim. If someone wanted to get rid of the cat, there surely was a more humane way to do it. Although it was only a cat, I see no sense in destroying anything which is unlikely to harm anyone.

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