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The Hounds Are Never At Bay
When I was young, my father took me to my first dog fighting ring. All kinds of men and women holding their howling and frothing dogs on chain leashes as they barked and howled at each other. Some people say dogs are man's best friend, a caring, affectionate, loyal and trusted companion. I never saw that side of them. To me dogs were akin to any wild animal. The way they fought in those rings taught me that.
That day my father had brought our own dog, a gigantic Rottweiler that we had named Hannibal. I never knew our dog fought until that day. It would be the last day I ever saw him.
I remember the ring they fought in. A makeshift thing, made of random metals and wires. I looked around at everyone there. Cheering and shouting and throwing their money away. It was a sight to see.
"Here we go Danny, it's Hannibal's turn. We're gonna make some money tonight son!" my father shouted excitedly. I wished at the time I could share his enthusiasm but I couldn't. I was watching the dogs maul each other to death, thinking would my dog suffer the same fate.
And finally the time came. It was Hannibal's turn to fight. They let his opponent come out first. A large Doberman named Killer. The two dogs began to bark at each other, straining on their leashes, ready to fight for no reason other than to entertain these people. I held the chain tight, barely able to hold Hannibal back. Then the horn blew, and off Hannibal went.
I'm sick to this day still thinking about. I never saw that side of Hannibal and I regret the day my dad ever took me. Hannibal was biting at Killer everywhere, deep gashes from his fangs peppered through Killer all over. Killer fought back valiantly, scratching Hannibal over and over. They wrestled, and bit, and scratched each other till they came apart, both panting hard and clearly not able to fight anymore.
But the crowd wasn't satisfied. They began to boo at the dogs for stopping, shouting for blood and death. My dad clapped his hands at Hannibal and that was it. Hannibal summoned strength from deep in his soul and lunged at Killer. Killer jumped out of the way and grabbed Hannibal by the back of his neck. Killer latched and pulled, twisted, and yanked Hannibal's neck until finally, I heard a snap and watched my dog fall to the floor, dead as can be.
When I was young my father took me to my first dog fighting ring. It was also my last.
© DannyA.
That day my father had brought our own dog, a gigantic Rottweiler that we had named Hannibal. I never knew our dog fought until that day. It would be the last day I ever saw him.
I remember the ring they fought in. A makeshift thing, made of random metals and wires. I looked around at everyone there. Cheering and shouting and throwing their money away. It was a sight to see.
"Here we go Danny, it's Hannibal's turn. We're gonna make some money tonight son!" my father shouted excitedly. I wished at the time I could share his enthusiasm but I couldn't. I was watching the dogs maul each other to death, thinking would my dog suffer the same fate.
And finally the time came. It was Hannibal's turn to fight. They let his opponent come out first. A large Doberman named Killer. The two dogs began to bark at each other, straining on their leashes, ready to fight for no reason other than to entertain these people. I held the chain tight, barely able to hold Hannibal back. Then the horn blew, and off Hannibal went.
I'm sick to this day still thinking about. I never saw that side of Hannibal and I regret the day my dad ever took me. Hannibal was biting at Killer everywhere, deep gashes from his fangs peppered through Killer all over. Killer fought back valiantly, scratching Hannibal over and over. They wrestled, and bit, and scratched each other till they came apart, both panting hard and clearly not able to fight anymore.
But the crowd wasn't satisfied. They began to boo at the dogs for stopping, shouting for blood and death. My dad clapped his hands at Hannibal and that was it. Hannibal summoned strength from deep in his soul and lunged at Killer. Killer jumped out of the way and grabbed Hannibal by the back of his neck. Killer latched and pulled, twisted, and yanked Hannibal's neck until finally, I heard a snap and watched my dog fall to the floor, dead as can be.
When I was young my father took me to my first dog fighting ring. It was also my last.
© DannyA.
