Maybe Too Much Nature in this Texas Hill Country

Yesterday as I'm sitting down to eat supper I see through the window a baby deer crashing into the corner of the my back fence frantically looking for a way out. I knew in a heartbeat the dogs were chasing it and it somehow got stuck in my fenced four acres of woods.

I jumped up, hollared at my wife, found a couple of leashes and went running into the back shouting for my dogs.

After much hollaring and screaming and watching this spotted fawn run to and fro, I got the dogs leashed (who really were not in as hot pursuit as I thought) and figured I could chase the fawn from the corner where it now stood trying to squeeze between the fence and the rock wall and possibly out the front gate.

When I walked up to it, its face squeezed into the gate, I could see it injuries were probably not fatal but not pretty either. It let me pick it up (I folded its legs under to avoid getting kicked) and it bleeped helplessly like a sheep or a goat. I saw its mother a few minutes earlier at that corner looking worried, but she was now scared off into the woods. I picked the baby up over the fence and let her go. She went running out after her mom.

We were stressed. I went back and ate my cold supper. I told my wife, this hill country may just have a little too much wildlife.

It's starting to wear on my nerves.

Petting the Cat

I grew up with a mother who was obsessed about fat people and making fun of them. As kids we couldn't go to a family restaurant without my mom invariably pointing out some hefty person and their large order of food. It was embarassing but funny.

This is just funny.

A Dog Fight

I broke up a dog fight the other day... between Phoebe my American Bulldog and a Pit Bull a family member brought to the house. It was pretty ugly. My wife was screaming at the top of her lungs and I was trying to pull them apart. My hands were all bloody.

The Pit got a hold on Phoebe's neck but Phoebe couldn't get a grip back. Of course it was all fast and furious. She'd chomp down on my hand and I could feel her teeth sinking into my flesh and then feel her pull them out again. I could tell (it was kind of like slow-motion) she'd realize the taste and feel in her mouth was my hand so she would let go while spinning and turning and try biting again - usually right back my same hand.

The Pit latched on and started shaking trying to kill instinctively but only had her neck skin. She wasn't big enough to actually shake Phoebe to death. I couldn't rip them apart since it'd only tear up Phoebe's neck worse. The Pit wasn't about to let go.

My wife's father ran up all the way from the cabin welding a small log and clobbered the Pit Bull over the head. It let go and started to turn on him for a second. He threatened it with its life. After that it circled around to try and attack Phoebe - which I was holding back by the collar.

I guess it was my mistake for ever letting the two dogs come into contact in any kind of uncontrolled situation. They were peaceful with each other earlier. My wife's father - a born and raised Alabama man who grew up around country dogs - says, "In a situation like that, a dog doesn't understand anything but more pain."