Rottweiler Bee Eye Tea Sea Haitch!

 I wrestled with the title for this post for a while and came up with - well, what it is called. It is going to be a pretty short one today as this topic sits nicely on its own and sets the scene for future posts.

Growing up, we had two Border Collies. One of them, Ben, came from a farm in North Wales (much more on that in later posts) and the other, Jess - Who we bought from someone more local to Nottingham.

Me with Ben

Ben was a handsome dog, mainly black with a white underbelly and neck. He had massive paws and a short muzzle.

I used to walk Ben along the perimeter of the playing fields for about 15-20 minutes per day. He loved it and I enjoyed walking with him, despite his stubbornness to return to you when you called him.

On the estate, there lived a family that had kids a bit older than me - maybe four to five years older and this family owned a Rottweiler bitch. For some reason, this Rottweiler took a fervent dislike to Ben and would try and attack him. Ben, being a Border Collie, was no match for this Rottweiler and would routinely move into a submissive pose - lying on his back.

I think it may have been a Sunday morning, before church - I was walking Ben along the route I usually took when, from behind, came a black and tan blur. This blur rocketed past me and barrelled into Ben, knocking him over instantly. Ben assumed the submission pose and I noticed that it was the Rottweiler bitch again - This time it wasn't letting Ben go. She had him by the throat and I saw red, literally and metaphorically. The part of Ben's neck you can see in the picture above was bleeding...

The thing about boys aged 12 or 13 is that they often have a lot of testosterone coursing through their veins and this, coupled with seeing your dog being attacked was more than enough to suspend any sense of danger I felt for myself.

I just dived in, fists flying, raining blow upon blow to the head of the Rottweiler. This didn't have much of an effect as the dog clearly had a thick skull that seemed to render it impervious to harm - it just seemed to make it cross. It briefly let go of Ben's neck and took a bite at me, giving me a small cut on the back of my right hand, which left a scar that is still visible today.

At this point, I grabbed the Rottweiler's collar and began to twist. This, seemingly confused the Rottweiler and it stopped trying to kill Ben. I was in such a rage at this point. I kept the collar tightly twisted until I caught sight of the owner... With the Rottweiler's tongue going a slight shade of blue, I yelled at the owner to "get control of your bloody* dog or I'm gonna keep twisting!" I think the shock of the scene, my dog with blood on his neck, my hand bleeding and his dog with a tongue turning blue, may have saved me from any potential retribution as he grabbed his dog and dragged it off back home. I remember shouting after them "that bloody* thing needs a muzzle!"

After making sure Ben was alright - he was whimpering a bit, and cleaning as much blood off him as I could, I took him back home. My dad saw the state of us and, credit to him, didn't go ballistic! He, simply asked what had happened and asked if he need to go and see the owners of the Rottweiler. I said that he didn't and I'd told them to get a muzzle (See? No profanity) for it and hopefully all would be OK. 

I don't have any recollection seeing the Rottweiler after this so I assume that, in fear of having the police called for a dangerous dog, they exercised their dog somewhere else.

*My parents brought me up better than to swear but fearing for your dog's life tends to make you forget all that good training...