The other day, I was having a lovely, relaxing walk in the neighborhood. Out of the corner of my eye, I suddenly saw a Pit tearing across the street towards me and my dog. I happened to have on my winter clogs which keep my feet high and dry whilst sloshing through the multitude of not-so-shallow puddles in the every uneven sidewalks around here…and not the wimpy rubber sole clogs but the real Swedish deal: wooden clogs.
Repeated kicks to the chest of the Pitbull kept popping him back just enough to keep his teeth full of fur and not sunk into my geriatric (15 years old!) Weimaraner’s skin and muscle… Continue reading