Of Courage and Catapults

I built a trebuchet.  No, not a full-scale trebuchet.  Geez, that would've taken a construction space the size of a football field.  No, mine is a much smaller model, about 3 feet tall when the arm is fully upright.    Why a trebuchet, you may ask?  Well...

Back in the 90s, when rollerblading was the fad du jour 

 (and, no I don't have any pictures of me in my cute little spandex rollerblading outfit, geez)

I would take the dogs, Whopper (on the left) and Goober (on the right), for runs through the local park, me on the blades, them on feet.  And what feet they had.  Little black blurs is what they were, Whopper in the lead, Goober right behind.  And what noses they had...running here, there and everywhere.  Always curious, always adventurous, always fearless.  By watching them run, they led me to

• a dairy on the other side of the park fence,
• a nest of burrowing owls,
• squirrels who needed the exercise of being chased,
• new people who loved the serenity of Whopper and the joy of Goober

...and college kids taking target practice with their catapults!  It was amazing.  A bunch of engineering students had built some pretty good-sized working catapults, and were taking turns trying to hit a dummy in a tower with a head of lettuce.  We were mesmerized by the sight and thrilled by the competitive effort.  It was always a kick to see them every time we went to the park. 

One afternoon, my husband decided to join us at the park.  As we were driving there, Whopper and Goober began to get very excited in anticipation.  They began yelping and scurrying in the back seat.  My husband, ever the stick in the mud, said "Geez, what's wrong with them.  Can't you keep them quiet?"  To which I replied, "Look, WE invited YOU to share OUR day."  "Share our day?  What am I, an uncle or something?"  He just didn't get it.

When we got out of the car, we began our run.  First, the cows by the dairy. Then, the owls.  The squirrels were always being chased, and the people and children always stopped to say hello to Whopper, Goober and me.  Finally, as we came to an open clearing, there they were...the catapults!  My husband dropped his jaw.  I don't think he was expecting THAT as part of his day.  Whopper and Goober bounded up to the kids who had, by this time, unofficially adopted them.  We were mesmerized again.  Just watching them compete was enough to make me want a catapult of my own.  And now I have one.  And it works !!!

Having two happy, rambunctious dogs led me to something that I would not have experienced without their fearlessness and their total trust that their nose would lead them to something grand.  I think that's something we need to remember.  Fear is the number one cause of fear.  With it, we never try, we never learn, we never grow.

Now I know there are some of you out there screeching "OMG, she doesn't have her dogs on a leash !!!  What a menace to society !!!"  I know.  I heard the same talk from my husband.  And the talk is right.  But when I saw them running, having a grand time, it would have killed me to restrict them.  But we had an incident.

My dogs are happy, friendly, curious dogs.  But not all dogs are like that.  As I was roller-blading along, Goober got too close to a Husky who, incidentally, was on a leash.  The Husky opened its jaws and grabbed Goober by the head and began to shake.  Out of nowhere, Whopper flew in like a bat out of hell and clamped down on the Husky's jaw until he dropped Goober.  Jaws, teeth, fur, blood flew until the other owner and I pulled them apart.  Let me put this into perspective

Whopper - terrier mix - small dog

Goober - border collie mix - small dog

Husky - big dog

I'm looking at the blood and wondering where it came from and saw that Whopper had a small piece of his ear, the tip missing.  And the blood gushed with every beat of his heart.  I grabbed Whopper, leashed Goober, and raced to the Emergency Animal Hospital.  Goober came home with me, but Whopper had to stay overnight.

When I picked him up the next day, he had a bandage around his head.  Stitches, cuts and bruises.  Looking like every bit the hero, I seriously thought about getting him a little medal to pin to his collar.  "For services rendered in the defense of a comrade's life, without thought for his own."  That's what the vet said.  He said he'd never heard of anything like this before.  Way to go Whopper. 

Can we honestly say we would do the same thing for a friend ?  A family member ?  A child ?  I'd like to hope that I'd have some of Whopper's courage.