Living with dogs - With lightning comes thunder

I think I’m turning into a hoarder of large white dogs. I’ve recently had the opportunity to adopt an 18-month-old Great Pyrenees dog whose name is Lightning. 

With Lightning comes thunder.

The new addition is a sweetheart of a dog. At 18-months he is already as tall as Theo, just not quite as bulky. Lightning moved from a farm setting to a small pen in town, and like Theo a few years ago, had kind of outgrown his intended handler.

I expected bringing another male into the mix I already had might present some turmoil, but big dogs don’t bother me much. Especially this breed. I’ve got opposable thumbs, and they’ve got a lot of hair to grab onto to control them.

Not like small dogs where everything you grab will either bite or scratch you.

The first night there were a few minor growling issues when Lightning stayed glued to my hip and Theo and Hudson got jealous.

Later in the evening, the growling turned more serious and the two larger dogs went at each other.

With my opposable thumbs, I grabbed each of them by the hair and started pitching them off separate sides of the porch. After his third trip off the porch Theo decided it was too hot, he was too big, and couldn’t remember what they were fighting over anyway, to keep jumping back on the porch. Fight over.

Monday did not go quite as smoothly.

I got home about 10 p.m. from putting the paper to bed. All three dogs were lounging in the yard when I pulled up, and all ran to greet me as I pulled in the driveway. There was a minor growl from Hudson when he thought Lightning was getting more pets than he was - I’ve only got two hands, so with three dogs I have to rotate the pets – but nothing came of the growl.

I noticed the dog bowls were low on food so I topped them all off, and with one more pet per dog I was heading inside when the fight broke out.

Theo and Lightning stood up on their back legs snarling and biting like a pair of grizzly bears going at it. I grabbed one then the other to separate them, but they both managed to break free and continue the battle.

Now they had maneuvered around, and were fighting between my legs with my left leg in the middle of the fray. I kept thinking there’s no way they can tell the difference between dog fur and my denim-clad leg in that mess.

Fortunately, I managed to step out of the flurry of teeth and fur unscathed, and regain a handle on both dogs.

While I was holding Lightning back I attempted to shove Theo off the porch like the night before. Unfortunately, Theo’s evidently been watching the WWE or some other wrestling program on television.

As he slid toward the edge of the porch he rose up just in time to catch himself on the hammock dangling between the porch supports. His body extended out over the edge a bit like a cartoon character trying to back-pedal from the edge of a cliff.

The hammock hit the end of its slack and slung Theo back onto the porch and into the fray. I started to laugh a bit, and that second of lost concentration cost me.

My grip on Lightning’s hair and collar slipped and he lunged toward Theo, who was rebounding off the hammock. Theo ran into my right leg as he rebounded and suddenly my upper thigh was the only thing between Lightning’s open mouth and Theo’s side.

I felt Lightning’s teeth puncture my blue jeans, then the skin on my leg. The expletive I let out brought the fight to a quick end.

Theo and Hudson both headed for their “safe zones” and Lightning looked at me with a “What did I do” expression.

Since I considered it more my fault than his, Lightning got off easy with just an ear pulling drag to the pen and a severe cursing out.

I angrily strode off for the house as all three dogs recoiled away from the pissed alpha male with the opposable thumbs.

The opposable thumbs that were going to come in real handy opening the first aid kit.

With lightning comes thunder.

Terry Spradley is the editor of the St. John News. His e-mail address is sjnewseditor@embarqmail.com