So I have this wonderful dog, Lulu. She’s a 120lb Anatolian Shepherd, and without question, one of the kindest, most docile animals I’ve met in my entire life. She’s quiet 99% of the time, gentle around infants, and I’ve never had to spank or punish her physically—mostly because if I even raise my voice to her, she looks as though I can’t POSSIBLY make her feel any worse than she already does. As far as other dogs go, I’ve seen an eight-pound miniature pinscher pin her to the ground…she’ll play with ANY sized dog, but loves the tiny ones. Sometimes I think Lulu lets them win while wrestling, because she somehow knows they won’t want to play with her anymore if she throws her weight around like a bully. Bottom line: she’s 100+ pounds of furry, hand-licking unconditional love, who absolutely LIVES for the company of others, be they animal or human.
Yesterday at the dog park, Lulu encountered a male Great Dane—two years old and 160 pounds—a massive beast who actually made ME nervous about walking into the enclosure. Normally big dogs don’t bother Lulu at all, but due to some unknown doggy-rationale, this Great Dane decided Lulu’s kindness aura was weak sauce and she needed to be taught a lesson. He bullied her around the ring, hounding (pun intended) her every movement, looming over and pawing at her back. In essence, he scared the living crap out of her—to the point where I actually contemplated coming to her “rescue”, which would have resulted in large pieces of me being pooped into the Great Dane’s yard within 24 hours.
Before I could intervene and thereby test the limits of my pathetic health care insurance, the Great Dane made the tactical mistake of trapping Lulu in a 90-degree corner near the entrance of the park. The change in my sweet ball of doggy-love was as amazing as it was frightening: her tail popped back out from between her legs. Her neck fur swelled to where it looked like a lion’s mane. For the first time in her life (with me) her lips curled up and long canines and sharper incisors became all-too-apparent. And she growled. Not the cute crap you hear your cocker spaniel utter at the sight of the mailman. I mean a GROWL. A promise of flesh-rending violence. The kind which would make a grizzly bear go, “Y’know, this might be more trouble than it’s worth.”
And the Great Dane agreed.
A lesson for all the Great Danes in the world, canine and human alike: be careful who you decide to push around. You might not be happy you did, especially when you see what comes charging back out of that dark corner.