Ernie's Brush With Death: 2002

Of all Ernie's adventures, the most serious by far was perhaps more misadventure on the part of a stupid ugly Airedale named Hell. I don't really know if that was his name, but that's what he brought to us one clear morning as Ernie the pup was taking a walk with my sister, Ridey, who is not to be crossed.

At this point in his life Ernie was only a few months old- still a handsome black all around his face- like a pharaoh in coloring and presence. We had previously learned from our vet that we had jumped the gun on his walks and that he was far too young and underdeveloped to be taking such long strolls. That explained the crying and we were very remorseful, (but we also thought it was funny). THE POINT IS, Ernie's walks at this time had been restricted to up and down the street in front of our house. On one such walk on the aforementioned day with the aforementioned formidable sister, Ernie met Hell. The following photograph, though not Hell specifically, shows you the militant stance of the morally corrupt breed.



Hell lived down the street and over a street and had no previous record of demonic and savage behavior. Ernie the pup took a few sniffs (as pups do) and Hell took a few sniffs back (as if he were a normal dog). AND THEN OUT OF NOWHERE HELL TOOK ERNIE'S FACE AND HEAD INTO HIS MOUTH IN A FURY AND BEGAN FEROCIOUSLY AND VIOLENTLY SWINGING HIS HEAD (WITH ERNIE'S HEAD IN HIS MOUTH) FROM SIDE TO SIDE TRYING TO RIP ERNIE TO SHREDS. WELL, Ernie of course was horrified and terrified but nullified by his tiny size and his shock. But as I told you, my sister Ridey is not to be crossed. This was her puppy being eaten and massacred blamelessly, and Ridey is known for an acute sense of sympathy for the underdog. This time it was all too literal to bear. So gallant 17-year-old Ridey kicked the crap out of Hell. She took her athletic and spry legs and kicked him as hard as she could in his stomach and chest. She beat that crime against nature in the head with Ernie's leash. She pummeled the murderous villain until he released. And poor Ernie the pup stood trembling- a beaten toddler with a hole in his nose like a beluga whale, terrified and stunned. Ridey scooped up our pup and ran into our house screaming for help and for justice. And we piled into the car, I with poor pup Ernie in the back, spouting with blood and choking on it (by the way dog blood smells awful- very strange smell- NOT good). He was thankfully treated by our vet, and the horrendous episode ended with three thankful people and a puppy that looked more like an anteater for a few weeks and wasn't so sure of himself anymore. BUT DON'T YOU WORRY, he got his confidence back. More to come.

***Author's note: It cannot go without saying that I, too, was attacked by another savage Airedale by the name of Duffy Perkins at the baby age of three. My mother watched horrified, much like Ridey, BUT WORSE BECAUSE I'M A PERSON, as I, having asked permission to pet Duffy Perkins, was thrown to the ground by a beast six times my size. He went for the neck, as all killers will, and my little white blouse with the Peter Pan collar was ripped to shreds as he, not being able to get to my neck BECAUSE DO YOU HONESTLY THINK I WAS GOING TO LET HIM, went for my chest instead. My three-year-old chest, covered in innocence and baby fat, was now covered in blood and animal savagery. I still remember the slam of my head against the street as he attacked. So let it be known that Airedales are the worst dogs in the world. Luckily, Ernie and I survived their attempts to ruin us.