Good morning, dear Blogger friends. As described on Wednesday, I was all alone on the farm, although during the day I had three staff here and the farmer next door whom I could call in an emergency.
Once I'd returned from Parkrun, I settled in at my desk to clear some of the admin for the week. While sitting there, I heard the two Labradors next door attack the old Staffie. This happened every time the owners were away. I always dashed into their yard and bellowed at them which seemed to work. They would leave the old dog and she would slink aways around the house to lick her wounds.
This Saturday, I reacted no different. I ran outside and through my gate, (which I realized afterwards I'd not latched properly,) into their garden, also leaving that gate unlocked. The dogs had left the Staffie, and I ran around the house to see where she was. She was not at the back, and I dashed back to the front. As I looked up the path, I saw a dog with a collar in the garden. Not one of the neighbor's dogs have collars and I realized that it was Skabby. He had followed me through both open gates.
My blood ran cold when I saw the two Labs running up and circling him. I pulled a couple of bricks from a crumbling garden wall (on a farm of over 100 years, things tend to crumble) and sprinted to the three dogs. By now the other two dogs had hold of Skabby. One had his right cheek and the other had him by the ear. I hurled the bricks at the male dog but he didn't even flinch.
By now I had reached the dogs and I was screaming blue murder. I had hold of Skabby's collar but as I'd pull him away from one dog, the other dog took a firmer grip. Skabby also got a few bites in. I thought of poking the male Lab in the eye, yet all the while I was concerned that I had my hands and arms so close the viciously snapping jaws. And all the time I was screaming like a banshee! In this milieu, I was thinking imagine the vet bill on a New Year's weekend. And I also thought, my dog is going to be killed.
I must have been calling Star, because she ran into the garden and also threw a brick at the male, but as he let go, his mother took hold of Skabby's cheek again. I shouted to Star to bring water. Thankfully, my Zulu studies helped her to understand me. She returned within a minute with a tiny 500ml bucket (we buy raw honey in these containers) filled with water. As she splashed it over the three dogs' heads, they all let go.
Incredible...
She chased the two dogs towards their home while I pushed Skabby out of the yard. She followed me to my gate and patting her chest she said; Eish (Zulu for phew). I, close to laughing hysterically, said: Star, I am forty years older than you, what do you think my heart is doing right now.
These dogs had known each other for the past six years I've lived here. They have snapped, growled and barked through the fence. But with Skabby trespassing on their turf, there had to be a confrontation.
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All's well that ends well. Skabby got off with not a single puncture or wound. When I went into the house next door later to check on the dogs, I saw the male had dripped blood on the veranda floor. And his mother limped painfully to the corner when she saw me.
I have never, ever seen dogs fighting. Let alone been in the thick of it. This was the first time and hope the last. I never want to live through that again.
HAPPY FRIDAY TO YOU ALL!
