Day Of The Dog

TW: animal death

Statistically, there are over 25,000 days in the life of an average person, yet for almost everybody, there are but a handful that stand out. Very few are specifically remembered. This is a story of one of those days.

It was a sunny day in early Autumn in the rural hills of southern West Virginia. The leaves of the hardwoods were beginning to change as they did every year at this time. Already, they were starting to burst with the colorful foliage this area has always been famous for in this cool October setting. Red, gold, orange, and brown would all blend to create a breathtaking landscape. In this valley where my family had come to live, we were surrounded by hills covered with the brilliant shades of this harvest time season.

My two older brothers and I were spending some rare time together. I say rare because of our age difference. We were seldom in the same spot at the same time except at home at bed time or a family meal. I was the youngest at only five years of age. My brother Joel was ten and my brother Jason was twelve. My name is Jarod. We were the three J’s.   

The year was 1963. My parents had just moved our family to this new place to live and my brothers and I were exploring our new surroundings. It was to be a fresh and totally different life for all of us. It was a new start, a new beginning.  

There were no cell phones or smartphones in 1963. Nor were there home microwave ovens or many other modern conveniences we are accustomed to today. There was barely any television, especially shows catering to children of our ages. My first real memory of tv would come a few weeks later sitting on the floor in our living room watching a horse drawn carriage pull the body of President John F. Kennedy down the streets of Washington D.C. during his funeral. 

My parents had purchased an acre of land which sat in the middle of this long valley. There were two buildings on it. One of the buildings was a cinder block structure that the previous owners had used for storage. This garage had a dirt floor, a flat roof (that leaked) and two swing open slatted wooden doors each about six foot wide that joined in the center upon closure leaving a gap about three inches wide. There was no electricity and no light except for two windows on each side and what light could penetrate the crack between the doors when closed. It wasn’t secure either but this building really didn’t have anything of value inside. It was more like a workshop than anything.  

Actually walking around this property, we weren’t just exploring. Our dad had given the three of us a job to do. Our father had parked an old green pick-up truck in front of this garage. To the best of my recollection, I think it was a step side Chevy with a three speed on the column style transmission.   Anyway, dad had asked us to tidy up in and around the building. We were to put all of the trash and debris in the back of this pick-up which would later that week be hauled to the city dump, similar to a modern day landfill except at the dump they burned the trash with a continuous underground fire. There were always lots of rats at the dump too. Some of what we collected, we put in paper grocery bags but most of it we just threw in the bed of the truck. Either way, after a couple of hours, we had filled the back of this pick-up heaping full. We were proud that we had done a good job.  

Our father was in the second building on the property - a small motel that would become the family’s new business. He was preparing to do renovations that were needed. There was no house. We actually rented an apartment not far from this land. The plan was to purchase a mobile home soon that we would reside in while dad did his planned upgrades to the motel.  

It was understood that my oldest brother, Jason, was in charge of us three boys. My other brother Joel would mostly keep an eye on me. He didn’t mind. He and I had a good relationship. I think he really liked having a little brother. Jason, not so much but at least we all got along. That was quite an accomplishment for three rowdy boys.

The motel was not in a city, but instead, a rural area with a gas station nearby and two mobile home parks along this well traveled two lane highway. There was a small town 5 miles away in either direction. One of the towns was a railroad hub for coal mines nearby and the other town was the county seat. Back in those days, many travelers would stop for overnight stays at these little motels scattered throughout the country. Our motel had only nine rentable rooms. This was quite a few years before the big chain hotels of today.

As we were walking around the garage, we noticed there was a gravel holler to the side that led to three houses - our new neighbors. We had not met any of them yet. We didn’t know if any other children lived near us or not. On the other side of the road, there was just a big grassy field. Adjacent to our property was a fourth house that an old man lived in. This house didn’t even have indoor plumbing. You could see the outhouse behind the rickety structure. The old man lived there alone. 

As we continued investigating our new property, little did I know that the events of this day would end up becoming one of the most vivid memories of my early childhood. What was about to happen would shock both of my brothers and me and take all three of us totally by surprise.   

It was at this time, we noticed a dog walking down this gravel road in our direction. This wasn’t a big dog, nor a small dog, but instead, a medium sized mixed breed with light brown short hair - a mutt. All three of us loved animals, dogs especially. At first, we were delighted to see the hound.  

As the canine came closer to us, all three of us noticed something unusual. The dog was foaming at the mouth and was starting to growl at us. At this moment, we realized that this was not usual. This was not just a stray dog, but instead, a creature of fear.  

Jason hollered out, “I think that dog is rabid!”  

I didn’t know what that meant but I could tell by the way my brothers responded, it was not good. I could see that both my older brothers were instantly scared. Just as he said that, the dog started coming in our direction at a faster pace.

Jason said, “We need to get out of here. We need to hide and we need to hurry!”

Joel and I ran for the garage. At that time, the two doors were swung wide open.  

“Quick. Shut the doors!”, Joel yelled to me. I grabbed one and Joel grabbed the other and we began pulling them closed to the center.

We don’t know why, but Jason opted to jump in the back of the pick-up full of trash and debris. I don’t think any of us really knew what to do. We were just kids. He worked his way down into the rubbish pulling as much of it as he could over himself to hide his body. He laid under the garbage as quiet as a mouse.  

Joel and I barely managed to get the garage doors closed when the dog began fiercely attacking them. Growling, foaming more and more, we could hardly see the animal through the cracks between the slatted wood planks. It was dark and eerie in that block structure which added to our fears. Fighting to get to us, we could feel its strength as it continued striking and biting at the wood. By this time, I was truly horrified and I could tell my brother Joel was too. Luckily we were able to push back on the doors hard enough to keep this terrifying creature from breaching the opening.  

After a couple minutes, we could see this fearless animal begin to lessen its attack on us. We knew our older brother had leaped to the truck bed and hid under the trash and debris. We only hoped that he was hidden well enough to go unnoticed. The crazed animal then turned and began attacking the tires and the sides of the pickup truck. We had never seen a dog do anything like this. It was easy to see that this savage was growing more and more mad by the minute. It was a fearful event for all three of us.

Luckily, our brother Jason did go unnoticed. After a few minutes more of this terror, the dog just seemed to give up on its pursuit of us. The petrifying creature stood between the truck and the garage doors that we guarded and continued growling with more foam coming from its mouth. Looking in the animal’s eyes, we could see it wasn’t just us that were scared. It was trembling with fear too. It didn’t know what was happening to itself. And then, as if something else got this canine’s attention, it turned and started walking back up the holler towards our new neighbor’s houses. Joel and I started feeling some relief and soon we could see between the cracks of the doors our brother Jason poke his head above the trash looking over the edge of the truck.

Are you guys okay?, Jason yelled.

Joel responded, “Yes. That was crazy.”

After a couple more minutes, Joel and I opened the garage doors and Jason crawled out from under the garbage in the pick-up. I started tearing up about to cry. Joel noticed and came over to comfort me.  

“Where did it go?” Joel asked.

“It went up the holler toward those houses,” Jason responded.  

All three of us ventured to the corner of the garage looking up the gravel road in the direction the crazed beast had gone. Oddly enough, our curiosity led us to follow this dangerous animal. We proceeded up the passage making sure to stay far enough away to hopefully not be noticed.

The dog, still growling and foaming, shaking it’s head, staggered over to the field across from the furthest house up the road. It was still a fearful sight to see. About that time, we noticed a man emerging from the third house. The dog had caught his attention too but it just seemed to stand and stare at him now trembling uncontrollably.   

We could see that this man had brought a rifle with him. Seeing this, my oldest brother convinced us that it would be safe for us to go to him. He was a big man and he had with him the ability to protect us if needed Jason informed us.  

When we reached the neighbor, we introduced ourselves and told him how the dog had attacked us at the garage. He could tell that all three of us were terrified.  

Mr. Shires stood there staring at the creature planning his next move.  

“That’s a dangerous dog and ’m sure it has rabies. I will have to shoot and kill the animal. I hate to. Dogs are wonderful beings but a rabid dog must die. They are just much too dangerous. With that much foam coming from its mouth, this animal has been sick for some time.”

My two older brothers agreed with him. I had no idea what any of this meant. I had never heard of rabies. Later, they would explain the sickness and the danger to me.  

Less than a minute later, Mr. Shires raised the rifle to his shoulder. He took aim at the pitiful animal and fired. The loud boom shocked me and I watched as instantly the dog fell to its death. This creature of fear was no more. It all happened so fast. I was so confused. I didn’t know why all of this was taking place.

Mr. Shires assured us that he would take care of the dog and bury the body in the field right where it died. My brothers and I started walking back to the garage. Along the way, Jason and Joel explained to me about rabies and why the dog had to die. They explained to me how dangerous this whole situation had been. All I thought was how I love dogs. It was so sad this had to happen. It was quite a lesson for a five year old boy and one I’d never ever forget.

As I look back over my life and the memories of the few days that do stand out, I will always remember this one in particular. I spoke to my brother Joel today and he too remembers this unique event that we share. Our brother Jason passed away several years ago but we’re sure he would not have forgotten this afternoon as well. Who could? And now, as I ascend into my latter years, no matter how long I live, I will forever recall the creature of fear that horrified my two brothers and me. I have and always will remember this as the day of the dog.