My Puppy Wees On Visitors!
By: Andrew G.
The first time I saw my puppy peeing on someone else, it was like something from a horror movie. I had just gotten home from work and was sitting down with my girlfriend to watch TV when she suddenly stopped talking to me. She looked at her phone and then back at me. “
she asked, concerned. “I don’t know,” I replied. “You’re not feeling well.” She didn’t say anything else and continued watching TV. After a few minutes, she spoke again. “
Are you sure?
You’ve been acting really weird lately.” Then she turned away from me and walked into the bathroom. When I went to check on her, I found that she hadn’t come out yet; instead, there was a man standing outside the door holding a broom handle. I could hear him yelling at her through the glass door. “Get your f–king butt in here!” he yelled. “
Who are you? What do you want?”
she asked, clearly frightened. “Shut up or I’ll break this window open and shove a hose nozzle up your butt!” I thought to myself as I backed away from the door and tried to figure out how to get inside without getting hit by the broom handle.
After a few seconds, I finally came up with a plan. Slowly and as quietly as I could, I unlocked the backdoor and let myself in. With my head slightly lowered, I crept up behind the man and pushed him forward with all my might. He flew headfirst through the glass shower door, landing on top of her on the other side!
The whole time, she just sat there without trying to help or get away.
Is everything OK in there?”
I heard my mom call from the living room. “I heard a bunch of yelling.”
“Yes,” I replied. “I dropped my phone and broke the screen.” I sat down on the toilet and started yelling at my girlfriend. “
Why didn’t you try to help me? What’s wrong with you?”
The man picked himself up off the floor, opened the door, and walked over to his broom handle. “
Is everything OK in here?”
my mom asked as she walked into the bathroom. The man quickly picked up the broom handle and raised it above his head. “Everything’s fine,” I said, standing up. “Hold on, let me show you something.” I quickly shoved him as hard as I could, sending him back into the broken shower door. The glass shards cut into his back and he fell to the floor howling in pain. “You’re not fine!” I yelled, “and if you do that again…” Without another word, the man quickly scrambled to his feet and ran out of the house. I followed him outside and watched as he jumped into a red pickup truck and sped away.
I’m sorry about doing that,” I told my girlfriend through the glass door. “I’ll clean up the glass for you. It’ll only take a minute. All you have to do is buzz me in.” She didn’t say anything — she just got up and walked into the living room.
I could hear her telling my mom what happened. “This is exactly why we moved out here,” I heard my mom say. “I’m going to call the sheriff. Stay inside until I come back out.” My girlfriend’s dad had disappeared by the time her mom came back outside. My mom told her that we needed to get out of there and called my dad to come pick us up.
“You shouldn’t have gotten in that man’s car,” my mother told me on the way home. “
Why did you do that?
You know you’re not supposed to talk to strangers.” “But…” I started to say. “No buts,” she said with a sigh. “You have to be more careful. You could’ve gotten yourself killed.
You ever hear of the boy next door?
He got in a stranger’s car one day and they drove him off and… Well, they found what was left of him a couple days later. The sheriff says they think the man that picked him up was a serial killer. He might come around here someday to pick up another kid.”
I started to worry. “
What if the man that was chasing me was a killer too?
He tried to hit me with his car!” My mother gave me a sideways glance. “
When did this happen?”
she asked. I explained to her what happened as best I could remember. “You need to speak clearly when you’re talking to adults,” she said. “It’s hard to understand you. I don’t know if you’re telling the truth or not.”
I could feel my eyes start to water. “You don’t believe me,” I said in between sobs. “Nobody believes me.” My mother pulled the car over to the side of the road and turned it off.
“I do believe you, honey,” she said. “And that’s precisely why we have to go back and get your dad’s gun. If you really are in danger, we’re going to need to protect ourselves. Now let’s go.
What’s the address?
We drove in silence the rest of the way. I showed her where the house was and she pulled over down the street from it. “I want you to stay in the car,” she said. “I’m going to go in and get the gun and some ammo.
Then we’re going straight to the sheriff’s office, OK?
They’re going to be able to help us. But if anything happens, you need to get out of here and run to a stranger or you call the cops.
My mother marched up to the house and disappeared inside. While she was gone, I thought about what I would say to the sheriff. My mom came back out a few minutes later with a shoebox. “Let’s go,” she said.
“I just hope we’re not too late.”
We drove in silence to the sheriff’s office. I could tell she was worried. She had a big crease between her eyebrows and her knuckles were white from how hard she was gripping the steering wheel. When we pulled into the parking lot, I could see two deputies standing outside their cars.
One of them was smoking a cigarette. As we walked towards them, they started walking towards us. “
Is something wrong?”
one of them asked. “
Has your son been hurt?”
My mother handed him the box. “I need you to help me catch a killer,” she said. She explained to them what happened and they went storming into the house with us in tow. She showed them the room with the cage on the balcony just like I had told her. One of the deputies took out his gun while the other one opened the cage.
The first one slowly opened the door. “
Sheriff, you there?”
he shouted. No answer. The deputy waved us back. “Stay back. We don’t know if he’s hiding somewhere or if he’s actually left the building.” They went through the house, gun barrels first while we stayed in the living room. “
What’s your name, ma’am?”
one of them asked my mother. “I’m Deputy Jonston and this is Deputy Thompson.
Now, can you tell me what happened?”
Then, we heard a gunshot from the back of the house. We all ran towards the sound. There was a sliding glass door that led out to the back porch. It was open and there were more deputies outside. One of them was on his knees next to a body. It was my mother’s husband. He had a gunshot wound to his forehead.
My mother ran to him and screamed his name: “Tom!”
“We need to get out of here,” said Jonston. “These two don’t know anything that’s going on. The killer could still be on the loose. Let’s go.”
Would you like to tell me what’s really going on?”
said Thompson. “I’m not stupid. I can put two and two together. There’s a cage in that back room with a bed in it. The guy’s name is Jason Mills. He kidnapped a little girl from here two days ago. Her name was Rachel Stanton. She was nine years old. That cage was under the bed the whole time.”
The other deputy, Jonston, looked at Thompson. “We need to leave right now,” he said.
My mother clutched her husband’s body and cried. I looked at the cage on the balcony and knew they were talking about me. I just wanted to be in my safe place, not here in this awful house.
That’s when I remembered what my mother said: “You need to run away from a stranger or go find a police officer.” All the deputies were men in uniforms, so I decided I would trust them. “Let’s get out of here,” I said.
Where are you going, young lady?”
“I can’t stay here,” I said. “I need to find a police officer.”
“No, it’s too dangerous,” he said. “There could still be a killer here.”
“We’re not finished searching the house,” said Jonston. “
Could you two go outside while we check the last couple rooms?
Sources & references used in this article:
- Before & After Getting Your Puppy: The Positive Approach to Raising a Happy, Healthy, & Well-behaved Dog (I Dunbar – 2004 – books.google.com)
- BEFORE You Get Your Puppy (I Dunbar – 2001 – iwsca.org)
- Stay (K Lawrence – 2017 – books.google.com)
- The Stitching Post (L Richardson – Seven Minutes from Home, 2016 – brill.com)
- The Goose a Prisoner (D Feingold – New England Review and Bread Loaf Quarterly, 1986 – JSTOR)
- My ribs hurt: a conversation with Sandra Balcovske (J Marzillier – 2018 – Sphinx)
- Empirical determination of anger provoking characteristics intrinsic to anger provoking circumstances (L Behnan – Canadian Theatre Review, 1993 – search.proquest.com)
- Dog story (S Mabel – Journal of Social and Clinical Psychology, 1994 – Guilford Press)