Memories Part I can be found here.
I had a dog. He was mean as shit. I snuck him back as a pup from ‘Nam. He was an Akita. I never thought of a name so I just called him Akita. Akita grew fast. He was well over 150lbs when he was grown but I never got a chance to weigh him. He wasn’t much for vets. Akita wasn’t the kind of dog that you took to the vet or did anything he didn’t want to do. He just didn’t take bullshit from anyone or anything, ever. He was a good friend. Well, maybe that is an overstatement. There was a mutual respect at least. We kind of kept each other in line. I might come home a little tired. He would nudge his food bowl. “Hold the fuck on, I’ll get to it in a minute.” I’d say. In a flash I would be pinned to the ground with his teeth in my throat slowly squeezing harder. My thick beard soften the points of his teeth a little but it didn’t really matter. I would reach up and grab his balls in desperation or at least as much of them I could fit in one hand. We would have a moment, testing the pain each other could take and he would finally let go. Then we would just stare at each other. He was right. No need for me to take out my day on him.
I tried to instill some discipline in him when he was younger. One time he took a steak off the counter so I hit him with a rolled up newspaper. He didn’t move. He didn’t even blink. He just looked at me with those cold eyes. The rest of the night that is all he did. Staring at me. Through me. The next morning the paper didn’t come. In fact it never came again. I found a single shoe in the backyard. The paperboys shoe. I didn’t even want to know where the rest of him was. Well played, Akita. Well played.
You don’t “discipline” a dog like that. You don’t expect obedience. You don’t expect submission. You just try your best to get along like civilized people and canines. He had my back. I had his. He just didn’t take any bullshit. I guess he got that from me. One time I was walking him through the park when some tree hugging hippie came up to us with a stupid grin on his face.
“Wow what a big boy! What’s his name?” He said.
“Easy there buddy. Akita doesn’t like strangers and these chains are just for show. He can snap right through them if he wants.” I warned him.
“Oh?” he said still smiling obviously not heading my words. “Not socialized huh? But he really is a sweet boy isn’t he? And I bet he loves giving kisses…”
Akita smacked him across the face with his paw knocking him and some of his teeth out. He was doing a weird twitch thing on the ground so I decided we should get out of there in case his neck was broken and he was dead.
I remember one time I brought home a woman. She was well out of my league. I guess she was just looking for adventure or someone that reminded her of her dad she probably used to bang. She couldn’t have been a day older than 23. We walked in the door and Akita came over to inspect.
“Oh my gosh! What a pretty dog! What’s his name?” She asked half drunk and annoying.
“Akita. But don’t address him directly. He hates that shit” I said. Akita started shoving his nose in her crotch taking big whiffs. She tried to push him away discretely but he shoved her against the wall.
“Umm, what’s he doing?” She asked nervously.
“The fuck it looks like he’s doing? He’s smelling your box” I said.
“Oh, um why is he still doing it?” She asked while forcing a smile
“Because that is what he wants to do so he’s doing it.” I said. I was getting sick of this broad and all of her questions. She was getting annoyed.
“Why is it smoky in here?”
“Obviously Akita was smoking a cheap cigar.”
“Why does your dog smoke cheap cigars?” She asked like she was better than me.
“Because he can’t afford the good ones you dumb bitch. He’s a dog.” I replied.
“Don’t call me that!” She screeched. “I’m going to go.”
“Good find your own ride.”
“I will. Your truck smells like wet dog anyway” She said as she stormed out. Akita had never been in the cab of my truck. She was talking about me and didn’t know it. Whatever. We didn’t need that shit. Akita and I had a few beers then went to bed.
Akita saved my ass a few times I have to admit. I was drunk one time and had apparently placed a bet with a local bookie on the super bowl and lost. I didn’t remember doing it and I certainly didn’t have the money to pay. I am not a gambling man so I didn’t want to be involved further. I told him to keep whatever I gave him and call it even. He made some threats or something but I had told him to call it even so I wasn’t listening anymore. About 2 weeks later I was watching some late night movie when out of nowhere my door was kicked in. In storms one of the bookies cronies. A big man with a baseball bat.
“I’m going to put this to you real simple. You made a bet. You owe money. I’m going to collect.” He said as he walked towards the couch. Fucking amateur. I looked back at the TV.
“You made a big mistake my friend. Akita, he just doesn’t like loud noises. And with such smooth skin on that clean shaven face of yours he might not be able to tell if you are a man or woman.” I told him. Not that it mattered. I never looked away from the TV. I heard the breath get knocked out of him as Akita jumped on him. I head the snap of the bat as half of it landed on front of me. Then I heard his struggle, the tearing of fabric, then his screams. His terrible screams. I had seen a lot of shit in my time but there are some things you can’t unsee. I didn’t even want to look at what was happening to that man. Akita had him bent over the other side of the couch so I felt every powerful thrust. His screaming stopped and I looked the other way at the clock. That is when I caught a glimpse in the mirror. Akita had him by the back of the neck. That is why he stopped screaming. His teeth were sunk into his flesh and Akita was holding the man’s head up making him watch what was happing to him in the mirror. They say mounting behavior in dogs isn’t sexual but it was with Akita. He kept at it for a half hour until he was finished with him. At some point in the night I guess the guy crawled out. I never saw him again.
You don’t just barge into a house like that smelling like aftershave and not expect that. What do you think is going to happen? He was asking for it if you want my opinion.
A few days later I saw the bookie with another of his toughs in the bar. I walked over with my beer. “One of your men came to my house to collect but I told you a few days ago we were even. Now you owe me money for my door.” I said. His man stepped in front of him.
“Mr. Bookie doesn’t owe you nothing!” He said as he poked my chest. As he did this it caused a single drop of my beer to splash out of the bottle and into my beard. What the fuck is this world coming to? I looked up at the soft cheeks of the two men in front of me. My leathery hand creaked as I clenched it in to a fist. I guess men need discipline as much as dogs do these days…
Sgt. David Garlson (Ret.)
October 1993