Bailey The Brute

Ever wonder what happens when you get between a dog and a chicken bone?

That… that is what happens when you try to wrestle a chicken bone from the mouth of a Yorkie.

A few weeks ago I was walking along minding my own business, the dogs were running around sniffing everything and eating poo like every other day when suddenly Bailey dashed into the bushes.

I know that dash, it’s the I’m gonna get there before you realize where I’m going and pull me back dash.

By the time I pulled him back it was too late, he had a KFC chicken wing clutched firmly between his teeth. Not the skinny one with the two little bones, the big fat one with the big bone.  There was still loads of meat on it and I don’t know if it was slimy because of all the happy dog spit or because it was sitting in the bushes too long.

What I did know was I had to get that sucker out of his mouth, pronto!  A task that wasn’t going to be easy when my fingers kept slipping off of it.

He fought me tooth and nail, LITERALLY.  People were walking by as I tried to keep Pixel from going bezerk, as she always does when people do something other than stand still and breathe, while trying to pry Bailey’s jaws open at the same time.

You have to try to imagine me with my foot on Pixel’s lead to keep her still, one hand holding the top of Bailey’s head while the other tries to pull his jaw open.  All the while my warnings going from delusional and sweet, thinking he’d actually listen, to long, loud strings of profanity which may or may not have included a few death threats.

Regardless, he was not letting that chicken wing go without a fight.   You see, this is a dog that rarely, if ever, gets people food.  We don’t believe in feeding the dogs scraps from the table or giving them our leftovers. They get their food and they get their dog treats, that’s it.  Granted, they do get people food without us meaning for it to happen.  For example, when they pull the garbage can over when we aren’t home and forget to put the top on properly, or we get up to get a drink and find our sandwich on the floor.  That’s our bad… more power to them if they are going to take advantage of our lack of responsibility.

For some reason, and don’t ask me why because I don’t know, someone keeps throwing KFC around our neighbourhood.  The closest KFC is two tram stops away so it’s not like it’s just around the corner, and I am not sure why they are throwing it away uneaten… but they do.  Perhaps it’s the diet, but I just can’t understand what would make someone throw away a perfectly good chicken wing.

Anyhow, the fight was on.  I did eventually get it away from him but not before he took one last desperate grab to try to hold onto it, catching my finger instead.  Thankfully he caught my finger at the nail rather than the skin, as he definitely would have cut me.  It still hurt like a sonofabitch though.

Now I am just watching the bruise as it makes it’s way up my fingernail.  A daily reminder of what a ferocious beast I live with!

Look at him!  Just this morning he walked up to me and gave me the stink eye.  I thought he’d be over it by now, but one can never tell the value of a chicken wing to a dog…

I am no longer the beloved woman who brings him food and cuddles, scratches him behind the ears and lets him lick my feet.  I am now just the obstacle between him and true happiness.  The wretched human who not only yells him anytime he tries to do anything fun, like barking or chasing the cat, but now also the snatcher of chicken wings.

I get the feeling that, while I may have won that battle, the war is far from over.