Patches
When my Dad was in Rehab during the fall of 1974 you may recall me telling you about a dog that we had "found' and kept for about a week. When it's owners finally claimed him we found out the cute medium sized black and white dog was named Patches and lived across the street from my school.
Everyday after school I would stop by Patches yard and play with him for around 15 minutes or so. Patches knew that when the last bell rang I would be along shortly. His owners knew that I stopped by and didn't mind. They appreciated greatly the nice care I gave the dog when it was lost.
One day in the late winter of 1975, just as I had gotten to Patches yard after school I saw my friend George running up the sidewalk towards me closely followed by a gang of kids. As he passed me he yelled,"Run!" George bolted past me and ran across Main Street without even bothering to look for oncoming traffic.
Main Street was by far the busiest street in town. The rules were simple. If you didn't live past it you couldn't cross it.
Apparently the gang chasing George didn't live past it. The stood on the corner of the street watching their prey get away from them. Slowly they turned their gaze from George towards me. I was still standing where George had passed me.
I knew some of these boys. Some like Brian and Troy played with me during lunch recess. But when they looked at me they all had the same look that Geno and John gave me right before they jabbed me with something sharp. No one in my family survived long without picking up on subtle little clues like that so I ran away as fast as I could.
I could tell from the sounds behind me that the boys were hot on my heels. Never the fastest runner on my best day I ran straight for the hopeful protection of my meek friend Patches. Within a few seconds I was standing next to Patches dog house, trying to catch my breath. I looked down at the dog house and saw Patches peek his head out looking around. Looking up I saw that the gang of kids were standing about 15 feet away from me. They looked unsure about weather to follow me. A couple of them cast a wary eye on Patches. (Who I may add was doing absolutely nothing to instill fear in anyone's heart.)
Glancing again down at the frightened dog cowing in his dog house I whispered,"You know my dog Duke would be eating one of these kids right now." Patches retreated a little further into his dog house. Wishing I could follow him I looked around for something to arm myself with. Other then his dog food bowl the only item in reach was a little plastic fake newspaper that said,"Man Bites Dog".
"Well that's not going to do me a lot of good", I thought to myself.
"Come on! That dog's not going to protect him", Brian said trying to get someone to go in and grab me.
"I'm not messing with a dog", Troy said. "Why don't you go in there and get him?"
A couple of the other kids started agreeing with Troy and soon Brian was finding his own courage tested. He stared a Patches for a long minute then finally said, " Ok. That dog's not going to do anything." At this point all I could see of Patches was his little black nose sticking out from the dog house.
Brian walked slowly towards me, the other boys cheering him on. When he was about 10 feet away I heard a low growl coming from the dog house. Brian apparently heard it as well because he stopped dead in his tracks. In a flash Patches was out of his dog house charging at Brian. Screaming Brian turned around to run. Before he could get away from Patches reach, the little black and white dog jumped up and tore a piece of Brian's shirt away from him. Brian tore out of the yard screaming. I could hear him screaming all the way down the block.
Smiling now I said to the other boys, 'You've got until the count of 5 and I'm letting him go!" The other boys wasted no time in following Brian down the street.
Alone now with Patches I hugged him saying, "Who a good dog? Who's a good dog?"
For some reason the gang of kids now wanted to beat me up after school. This was quite shocking to me. I had always looked at school as a place to go to get away from harm. Now it seemed I was in danger of being beaten up on my way home to be beat up by my older brothers. Knowing I had a little refuge not 250 from school I managed to make it there everyday. This upset the boys chasing me to great end.
"Come out and fight fair", they would yell.
"Nope", I would reply.
One day during recess we could all see the moving van at Patches house. Brian came up to me. "You're not going to have anywhere to run are you?"
My heart sank. Not only was I going to lose my safe harbor, but I really liked Patches as well. My heart rose however when I saw the moving van pull out of Patches house, drive 225 feet closer to school and unload their furniture at the house there. Patches was now only 25 feet away from the school. I smiled from ear to ear.
After that they gave up completely. I was never chased home by the pack of boys who seemed so nice during school hours, but seemed to want nothing more then to beat up some poor kid after school.
So it was just a few weeks later as I walked out of school I saw a few of them, including Brian, had caught George before he could quite get off of school property. They had George on the ground and were getting ready to beat him up when I walked by. I stopped and looked down at them.
"Hey you know what we should do? We should throw him in Patches yard? Let Patches take a bite out of him!"
Brian and the other boys thought this a splendid idea. They picked up George and dragged him down the hill towards Patches house. With a heave they threw him into the yard.
Patches came out and playfully licked George in the face.
"Why isn't he being bit?" Brian sounded very disappointed. Apparently Brian had not noticed George, Mark, and I playing with Patches before.
"Patches only bites people who poop their pants", I said matter of factly.
"I don't poop my pants!" Now Brian sounded very angry.
"Don't tell me, tell the dog.'
Brian was so angry he made the mistake of walking towards me and once again into Patches reach. Once again Patches grabbed a piece of Brian's shirt in his mouth. Once again Brian ran all the way down the street screaming like a Frenchmen running away from a German.
Rain or snow it didn't matter to me. A day never went by during school that I didn't stop by Patches house to play with that little dog. Even during the summer I would walk down to his house on my way to the swimming pool or a movie to see him.
Because of him I never did have to worry about being beaten up on my home anymore.