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Times Your Animal Kept You Safe or Alerted You to a Risky Situation
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<blockquote data-quote="ksm" data-source="post: 730843" data-attributes="member: 12511"><p>When I was about 5 or 6, we had a lovable medium size mutt. My dad worked on a farm, and he had told me that there were migrating geese around the farm pond. So that morning, I rode on the back of the trailer with the feed for the cows while he pulled it with the tractor. While he was putting the feed out, I walked towards the pond. </p><p></p><p>All of a sudden, a bull starts to charge at me. I remember seeing my dad, standing on top of the trailer yelling and waving his arms, helpless because of the distance between us. Then our dog, Chubbie, runs and gets between me and the bull and starts barking and trying to attack the bull. It worked. My dad was able to get to me.</p><p></p><p>The next dog we had was Duchess. Very friendly dog. I was probably in middle school, and my dad had made me a pair of stilts. I was probably only 12 to 18 inches off the ground. Our neighbor who was a middle age man was teasing me and acting like he was going to push me over. It was the only time I remember my dog growing and baring her teeth. I believe if he didn't move away, he would have been bitten.</p><p></p><p>And a different type of dog story... When I was six, and my sister was twelve, she died in a car accident. Her dog was named Stinker. Every day when the school bus would stop by our house, he would be waiting for her to get off the bus. When the bus would drive off he would howl and howl. With in a week later, Stinker took off and never returned. I am sure he left and was hunting for her... The devotions and love of an animal is pure and unconditional.</p><p></p><p>Ksm</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="ksm, post: 730843, member: 12511"] When I was about 5 or 6, we had a lovable medium size mutt. My dad worked on a farm, and he had told me that there were migrating geese around the farm pond. So that morning, I rode on the back of the trailer with the feed for the cows while he pulled it with the tractor. While he was putting the feed out, I walked towards the pond. All of a sudden, a bull starts to charge at me. I remember seeing my dad, standing on top of the trailer yelling and waving his arms, helpless because of the distance between us. Then our dog, Chubbie, runs and gets between me and the bull and starts barking and trying to attack the bull. It worked. My dad was able to get to me. The next dog we had was Duchess. Very friendly dog. I was probably in middle school, and my dad had made me a pair of stilts. I was probably only 12 to 18 inches off the ground. Our neighbor who was a middle age man was teasing me and acting like he was going to push me over. It was the only time I remember my dog growing and baring her teeth. I believe if he didn't move away, he would have been bitten. And a different type of dog story... When I was six, and my sister was twelve, she died in a car accident. Her dog was named Stinker. Every day when the school bus would stop by our house, he would be waiting for her to get off the bus. When the bus would drive off he would howl and howl. With in a week later, Stinker took off and never returned. I am sure he left and was hunting for her... The devotions and love of an animal is pure and unconditional. Ksm [/QUOTE]
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