Feb 06 2006
Et tu, Caesar?
I recently read an article about a man whose Doberman, which had been through obedience school, attacked and viciously bit his wife as she lay in bed. The veterinarian told him that many Dobermans do not come back once they have crossed that line. His was one of those, the vet suspected, so he took his friend of four years out for a last day of play before taking him to his final vet trip.
When I was a child, somewhere around age 10, I lost the first dog I ever knew. I grew up with that dog.
Now that I’m a father watching his child grow, I can more readily accept what happened to Caesar.
Caesar was a Doberman Pinscher, and he was kind. He was inside the house a lot, and sometimes slept beside our cat, Smoky (Smokey?). I remember feeling the muscles in his thighs and back when I pet him. He didn’t play fetch or rollover, or shake hands. Caesar was just a family dog, a kid’s dog. He was a big, lean, lovable animal.
Love, unfortunately, was a power he could not control. Although we had a large lot, he was almost impossible for us to keep fenced, and liked to impregnate neighbors’ dogs. I never saw any of those Doberman Spitzes, but I’m willing to bet the act that produced them made for a funny viewing experience.
Caesar had a tendency to tear the stuffing out of things (couch, favorite teddy bear) when left in the house for extended periods. Other than that, he was as friendly as a dog could be. The only warning our parents gave was “never hang from his neck.” Still, just his apperance struck fear into many people’s hearts.
One day as I played at a neighbor’s house down the road, Caesar sniffed around the front yard. He walked near the kids, who started petting him as he soaked up all their affection. One of the little girls, age about two or three, got near him and grabbed him around the neck. He quickly thrashed his head back and forth and barked. The little girl started screaming and crying.
As her father and mother came out to find out what happened, I said that he barked at her and she got scared. I went home with Caesar and didn’t think much about it after that.
A few days later, when I came home from school, my mother told me that Caesar was not coming home again. He had been taken to the vet and put down. I started crying and, having quickly put things together in my head, said through my watery eyes, “He didn’t bite her. I was there. She was hanging on his neck and he just barked at her.”
Of course, it was no use. My oldest friend was gone.
I don’t know whether Caesar had gone beyond the point of return, and I still doubt that he bit that little girl. Now that we have a child, however, I understand why my parents had to react, and perhaps overreact, to the incident.
Consider this my friend:
If a dog came even close to harming Ben, what would you do?
A parents instinctive need to protect their child goes WAY beyond a dog or a cat or any animal.
Sometimes…. things just happen that hurt our hearts, but need to be done.
Maybe Caesar didn’t need to be put down, maybe so. But always err on the side of caution.
Well, Dave, I tried to make that point, but I guess I was too subtle. So, here goes. I couldn’t agree more! Kids take precedence over the pets in every way imaginable.
Welby…Caesar had some unfortunately large quirks. I was there when he snipped at the girl too, and it scared me to death. We warned them not to hug him, but she was just too little to know better. I was a little older, and the second I saw the concern on her parent’s faces, I knew it was bad. We knew he had that quirk about having anything around his neck, but since we couldn’t keep him contained, there was no way to police him when he was out. I’ll never forget seeing him run as fast as he could, springboard himself off the logpile, and sail over the chain-link fence landing in furious, dusty roll. He must have flown 25-30 feet. And remember the time he ate through a full-size chain?
You have to admit….even we were a little scared of Caesar. Everyone in the neighborhood was. I remember when one neighbor threatened to chop his head off with a machete if he caught him in his yard again. Caesar was lovable, but we had other dogs that were much better. Could you imagine the outrage of a Doberman being loose in the neighborhood today?
I don’t remember being scared of him, but maybe I just didn’t know that it was abnormal for him to do some of the things he did. I think I do recall that he tore a neighbor’s dog up in a fight. He loved using that logpile to escape the fence. Smart bastage.
Definitely not our best dog, but the first one I remember, so he was special. Boomer and Pudge ruled (until Boomer ran off with that bitch in heat).
Welby…There are plenty of things that mom and dad didn’t tell us about Caesar. He used to drag up dead dogs, cats, you name it, to the house. He pretty much ensured that strangers weren’t going to mess with our house, but the problem was he wasn’t there that much.