Dog Thriller

DOG Thriller

Dog thriller.

Somewhere in Germany and in any case not just around the corner from here. A house with garden, it is evening. A Labrador lady and her younger buddy, a Ridgeback are allowed to play and pee in the garden, both dogs know this all evening ritual and trot off into the darkness.

Hörpel. After an exhausting day full of mails, dog training and phone calls with always recurring content:” He has never done that before and now all of a sudden…. ” or ” …so there is the confidence now but gone, the dog trainer also says already… “, and the following work with the Hellhounds themselves, I think to myself: ” …at the ass leads also a way “… and put me at 20.30 o’clock simply in bed.

21.15 o’clock somewhere in the nowhere, not just around the corner from here, the young mother and owner of the RR and the Labi lady stands screaming the names of the two beloved dogs in the garden. The two dogs disappeared from the face of the earth. She runs the fence of the 2000 square meter property, calls the police and the local hunter for help, because she believes both have somehow escaped.

Patrol and jeep drive up after a few minutes. They search the area around the house. Suddenly, the Labrador lady comes running out of the garden, panting in fear. She throws herself on the ground and ducks. The owner kneels to her excitedly, strokes her, suddenly blood on her hands. They run into the garden, illuminate it with the officers’ flashlights, and suddenly…

Hörpel. To forget the weird day I watch a few videos without dog content… around 21.50 o’clock the cell phone falls into my face… I should probably sleep. The door handle to the dreamland already in the hand tears me the service cell phone out again. Enzo Bulldog who also lies in bed flies ready for battle in front of the bed on the carpet and probes the area….What ?! Where? … Ringtone duty cell phone …bäh pfui almost 10 o’clock in the evening, och Menno !!!!

I answered it in a chewed up voice, “Bokr?”

Crying shaky voice on the other end:

” Hello, is this the Hellhound Foundation? Help me please!” ,

…so that’s how conversations that deal with disasters start.

What happened?

Somewhere in the middle of nowhere, not just around the corner from here, the body of the young RR was found in the garden. The head and neck area full of blood. Blood smeared, as well as the bitch. For the officials the case was clear, there had probably been a fight between the two dogs whereby the bitch must have killed the dog. The hunter smelled blood on the muzzle of the bitch and confirmed her as the culprit.

Unkind words followed, since an unpleasant case and all somewhat emotionally agitated and stunned. One would probably have to turn to the public order office, the bitch was a danger, the mother should consider whether she should let “this dog” again to her children.

“Okay, I see… (actually I understood nothing at all and my nose hurt from the cell phone flying off into my face). “So how old is the female and how old is the male?”

“11 months and 6 months was the male dog, I’m so scared! The officer said there could be Staff in the bitch too…my kids!”

At this point my brain usually shuts down, just not to think about the fact that someone is now trying to justify a presumed misbehavior of their own dog with the fact that a monster fighting dog from the BILD newspaper should have accidentally made an ass bomb into the gene pool of the otherwise so dear animal.

But in view of the situation, someone is just afraid and simply can not explain the behavior of his dog, so keep breathing and looking for solutions.

11 month old intact bitch bites 6 month old intact male dead… so if that’s true I demand to put dogs under weapons law ….aber well… okay, it’s Friday and 2 hours before witching hour, so weekend, in the shelter no one to reach and dog boarding probably also rather IN THE BETT….”

“I don’t know what to think, I don’t know my dog like that! What if she has something and attacks the kids?”

“I can’t imagine that happening, but she might react a little nervously and aggressively if necessary now after the incident so don’t take any more chances… How long of a drive are you?”

“About 2 hours.”

“Okay I’ll get her a room ready here.”

Disbelieving look from Enzo, who had just made himself comfortable next to me again….

Out of bed down to hell. Light on, wrinkled moray faces from the night camps… Facial expressions like: “Have you looked at the speedometer?!” and “Is your helmet burning?!”, from our old men Benni, Sam, Grandpa Peet and also my young bitch cat were not really away to ignore, but I just clung visually to Hector the blind as he is just blissfully rattled in his basket under the coffee machine.


What actual room Mrs. Bokr? You have group husbandry… peacefully sleeping group husbandry and now you want to put a black widow in front of them?

An 11-month-old, mind you, that’s almost still a child!”, my brain now also spoke up.

All right, plan B like Baskerville. Muzzle it and take it to bed, then no one will wake up here. Short rumbling behind the door, Enzo had come down again… no party without Meyer, he always has to see what’s going on.

No sooner said than done. So I stared after this fixed but satisfying train of thought still 1 1/2 hours alternately in the coffee cup and Enzo’s attempt not to fall asleep sitting and then took a little later the bitch. It flew out at me, as expected, a black adorable Labrador girl. She was high strung because her humans were not doing well. We briefly discussed what to do next. We would examine “Juice”, as she was called, over the weekend, but would then have to make do via a foster home, as we have no capacity with 52 dogs. Because we used, if places would become free, these for our own dogs, which since the stock reduction with us, for nearly 2 years in animal shelters places firmly and away sit, in order to get these back.

A foster place was also already found with our esteemed colleagues from Camchatca, however, a quick look from the Hellhounds would be quite nice, so was the arrangement.

So Juice, the Black Widow, and I traipsed in, again through the outraged above 12 committee, and under Enzo’s escort went up the stairs and after a brief agreement that the tomcats belonged to the house and were not edible, flanked ourselves into bed together. A long snort escaped the young dog and she quickly fell asleep…probably hadn’t been her day either, but she was so excited for her humans to figure it all out. Enzo stared at the bed in disbelief as if I had brought in a garbage bag to snuggle with and then sprawled on my feet contritely farting.

The next day came quickly and the alarm clock didn’t care if you helped anyone else at night, just like the geriatric from the kitchen, who was already rehearsing the all-morning rebellion, today in an even worse mood because of disturbing the night’s rest. Enzo stared around again stunned, only the Labbi girl catapulted out of bed in a good mood… how rude.

What a glorious brand new day!…

Already on the way down to the kitchen the events overlapped, while Enzo, Grandma Sky, who had simply missed all the hustle and bustle of the night due to her deafness, and I tried to coordinate our steps before the first coffee, down the stairs, the Black Widow simply cleared us from the steps. As undefinable meat and fur mixture descended, I still considered whether this would be now if necessary a moment, where the Black Widow could lose the Contenance and one would have probably better put on a muzzle, which lay now however above… however nothing happened except hilarity. Even when Enzo, on whom I was still half sitting after the fall, lost his nerve, it was just really not his day, the black Labbitier still wagged and hopped around. Stupid, strong waterproof, as the Lord created them.

So we tested them over the day. With food, with harassment and with everything we could think of on the subject of frustration, because this is a frequent trigger for dangerous and exaggerated aggressive reactions of dogs. But nothing happened.

Then in the afternoon I sat with Juice in the kitchen, my head completely empty of ideas of what could have been the trigger for this terrible incident. Juice was also staring a bit exhausted, but happy.

Her owner called every hour to ask if anything had happened yet. Nope!

The next day, I had an appointment with our colleague and friend Vera from the dog center Artgerecht in Lügde. We wanted to look at “Dio” together and decide whether he fits into her dog group (the story of “Dio” follows the days). So I packed Juice, Dio and Hellhound Sam and we drove to the Social-Walk in the beautiful Bad Pyrmont . Also the car ride in the Passat with an Akbash×Irish Wolfhound and a Newfoundland mix on then relatively narrow space and rocket driving style she made with.

On the way I talked to the owner on the phone.

She had calmed down a bit by now – and I shared my findings with her. She too could not believe that Juice should have killed a dog. When I asked her how the injuries of the Ridgeback looked like, she replied that she had not seen the dog at all, because she was so shocked and only her husband, the hunter and the police officer had looked at his body.

Wait a minute, please what?!

“Dig up the dog!”

“Excuse me?!”

“You, the shovel and the garbage bag you have a date tonight!”

“I can’t!”,  she began to cry.

Almost full braking on the highway… flawless demonic through the receiver: “Now pay attention good woman. Juice is in danger of getting into the machinery of the authorities, for the purpose of classification as a dangerous dog, with a character test, a lot of money, just because her mind is too delicate! You dig up the dog now, otherwise I’ll come and do it myself!”

That I bury them afterwards in the pit I could just so deny myself, because my Red Bull can made a departure in the footwell.

“Damned  Mimimi!”…I growled and accelerated again.

The social walk went as suspected, completely unspectacular and even the little white devil Pennywise (Chihuahua with Napoleon complex, who had to leave the Foundation for security reasons, meaning one of the resident Hellhound cats was hunting him at the time) couldn’t trigger anything in Juice. Vera and I pondered back and forth what could have triggered her, while Dio, who was supposed to be the subject of the story, was looking for new friends in the Artgerecht house.

Excessive aggression could be ruled out, as we simply could not find or trigger any, and she was much too clear for a misguided prey catch. Ball throwing: uninteresting, pennywise throwing ….nothing again. (Fun!)

So now remained to wait for the delivery of the corpse to the foundation.

About 17.30 o’clock Juice’s owner and the neighbor drove up. We got little “Ajani” out of the trunk and brought him into the dog’s living room to examine him under sufficient light on the table. Juice enjoyed the short visiting time of her mistress tremendously. This was already again completely dissolved, as the police had already stood before their door again, in order to bring under the dangerous dog if necessary and banish  further danger. (Only in such a way at the edge, it is great that here in such a way should be helped, has in the situation however an uncanny pressure built up. Particularly since a bite incident, also despite the death consequence of an own dog is not really reportable).

The dog corpse was of course full of earth, but had lain there fortunately dry and cool. We had not yet gassed up but rigor mortis. This we had to solve by moving the limbs and the muzzle with a little effort. Already at the first examination we could not find a single wound in the neck area. The neighbor stated that the collar he had worn but completely twisted from the neck had stood.

We looked at each other. First suspicion: strangulation while playing!

Where is the collar?

We have it here.

And indeed we saw that the leather was twisted like a licorice stick and had a bulge.

We showered little “Ajani” off and took pictures of all the details. He had bleeding on the tip of his tongue where he must have bitten his tongue. There was also an injury on the gum that looked like a crack. Other than that, the dog was unharmed all over his body.

We informed the owner of the initial findings. The procedure was now clear. “Ajani” I would take directly to the pathology in Hannover on Monday morning to have the findings confirmed by an official body. I wrote an e-mail the same evening to the  order and veterinary office in nowhere and Juice got her clearance to go home with her mum. My God we were all happy, especially Enzo, because now he didn’t have to share the bed anymore.

The findings report came a week later and confirmed that little “Ajani” had not died from a bite injury. Rather, it was thought that the two dogs had been playing in the yard and Juice had gotten her lower jaw and lower canines caught in the male’s collar, causing him to panic and twist in the collar. The tremendous pressure on the larynx had resulted in general circulatory failure. The tear on the gums was therefore caused by a claw caused by the attempt to kick himself free.

Juice was thus only able to free herself from the collar when he was motionless, in order to get to her owner who was calling in an agitated manner.

A terrible accident, nevertheless it was important for us to help and not to leave her to her fate as a dangerous dog and to be handed over to the shelter.

We are happy for little Juice and her family and hope that everyone will cope well with this tragic experience.

Unfortunately, such accidents happen more often when dogs are running around with collars or harnesses. Please take good care of your animals and let them play naked.

Greetings from hell