Patches & The Pinto: An Amusing Pet Story

The Culprit

"Patches"

Once I lived in Red River County, Texas, where I rented a house on FM 2118, next to the Mt. Pleasant Missionary Baptist Church (now defunct as far as I am aware). We actually lived about one quarter of a mile off FM 2118, on the same road down which one must drive to visit the Lennox Woods Preservation - one of the few areas in Texas that has not been been touched by loggers.

The house we rented and the area in which it was located gave us the opportunity to have a little privacy. It also allowed us to own a few dogs. Nowadays I have little use for dogs, but back then (for whatever the reason) I didn't mind them as much. That's not to say that I don't like dogs because I do. I just don't care for them as much as I once did.

One dog that found its way to our house was named (much to my chagrin) "Bobby." "Bobby" had been left behind when neighbors had (wisely) moved away without him. Unofficially he became "ours." I think he was eventualy "adopted" by my mom, but I can't remember for sure - it wouldn't be surprising knowing her bigheartedness towards critters. I seem to recall hearing that "Bobby" died a few years ago.

Another foul dog that we kept chained was called "Lucy." I don't know how she was named or who named her. I may have, but why I would choose such a name as Lucy is now beyond me. Lucy, a bulldog, "disappeared" one night from the tree to which she had been tied. She even took the chain with her! Good riddance!

The third dog, and the subject of this writing, was named Patches. I do believe that Patches - a stray Australian Shepherd - was named for a patch of black fur around his eyes (incidentally, one of his eyes is blue and one is yellowish-brown). As I recall, he was found wandering around on the side of the road when he was a puppy.

Patches is very much alive at the time of this writing (May 12, 2006), but it's amazing that he survived through one particular night in 1996 or perhaps 1997. In 1996-97, I took table scraps outside to feed them to Lucy and Patches. Since we lived in a rural area, it was a common thing to take "kitchen scraps" outside and toss them over the fence into the pasture. It was my habit to give the edible scraps to the dogs rather than to waste them on opossums. The logic was simple: they were always chained, they had a miserable existence, and so they got the table scraps as a treat. I don't know if "Bobby" was there at the time, but he didn't get anything but dry dog food.

As I have said, one evening I took the scraps out and fed them to the dogs. As usual, they gobbled them up before they even hit the ground and I went on my merry way to do who knows what. As I recall, it was getting dark when I fed them that evening.

All went well or seemed to until we went to bed that night. Almost as soon as we lay down, Patches started barking - in fact the tone of his bark sounded extremely serious. It sounded something like, "Booroorooroo. Booroorooroo," except that its tone made me glad that we didn't live near a cemetery - it would wake the dead.

"Argh! Something must be going on outside," I thought. I got up to check into the matter.

When the dogs started barking and would not stop, I always walked to the back door (the door closest to the dogs) to see if they were after a snake or some animal. If not, I would yell at them to "shut up, dogs!" and this usually terrified them into silence. On that night I followed the very same custom. There was even a little ritual that went along with it:

Turns porch light on and opens door.
Looks left: nothing but pasture.
Looks forward: nothing but barn, shop, and Lucy.
Looks right: Nothing but storage room and a now silent Patches, looking at me.
There are no snakes, skunks, opossums, or any other culprit that I can see, so...

"Shut up, dogs!"

Patches cowered. Lucy quickly decided to go into her doghouse. All was quiet.

Confident that the matter was settled, I turned the porch light off, closed and locked the back door, and made my way back to the bedroom. For a moment I listened: there was nothing but silence, so I got undressed again and slipped under the covers.

"Booroorooroo. Booroorooroo."

"Eh? Didn't I just tell that fool to shut up?" Annoyed, I got up, got dressed, and went to the back door again. This time I amended my words to address Patches.

"Shut up, Patches!"

Patches cowered. Lucy quickly decided to go into her doghouse. I went back to bed. Now I'll get some sleep for sure!

"Booroorooroo. Booroorooroo."

"Argh! I see now that one of us is going to have to die." I got up and dressed once again and stalked to the back door like a charging bull. This time I took a secret weapon with me. I got my leather belt out of the closet, doubled it, and stepped out the back door.

"Shut up, Patches!" As I spoke, I snapped the doubled belt so it would make the loud popping noise that doubled belts make.

Patches cowered. Lucy quickly decided to go into her doghouse. Once again, I went back to bed.

"Booroorooroo. Booroorooroo."

"(*&$##@*&#(@. Is it too late to be outside shooting a gun?" Again I got up and headed outside.

This time I left the back steps, belt in hand. I stood in the grass just beyond the reach of Patches' chain.

"Shut up, Patches! Shut up, shut up, shut up, or I'm going to kill you!" I beat the ground furiously with my belt.

Patches cowered. Lucy quickly decided to go into her doghouse. I stalked into the house, fully awake but wanting to be fast asleep.

This time I didn't go back to bed. Instead, I sat on the edge of the bed waiting to see if Patches would start barking. Surely he wouldn't be so foolish as to start barking after I...

"Booroorooroo. Booroorooroo."

Instantly I was outside, belt in hand. In the few seconds it took me to get there, Patches had been tried and found guilty. The punishment? 30 lashes or at least a beating until my rage subsided, whichever came first.

A guilty Patches cowered before me, awaiting his lashes.

"Shut up, Patches! What's your problem, anyway?" I demanded. He didn't say anything. Apparently he stood on his right to remain silent, but the punishment would not be altered. I drew back with the belt...

And then I saw it...

I saw claw marks indicating that Patches had been trying to reach something that lay just beyond the length of his chain. As I walked over to take a look, he went ahead and frantically began to claw the ground. He looked at me. He looked at the ground.

"Booroorooroo. Booroorooroo."

What in the world is he after? What does he want that would make him risk 30 lashes or perhaps execution? I couldn't see anything on the ground so I went quickly into the house and returned with a flashlight.

When I returned, I focused the flashlight beam on the ground. When I did, I knew instantly what was wrong:

A mere six inches (or so) out of his reach, there lay a single, tiny, brown, pinto bean. No doubt it had fallen from the scraps I had fed him earlier. He had been trying to reach it with all his might, barking pitifully as he dug into the ground.

Furious, I glared at Patches. I glared at the pinto bean. It didn't matter that I had discovered the problem. I had been kept awake for more than an hour, and someone had to pay!

At that point, I knew what I had to do. Right in front of Patches' eyes - a mere six inches or so out of his reach - I jumped up and down on a pinto bean, crushing it out of existence and ending any legitimate reason for insane barking. With the pinto's death, my anger went away and my blood pressure returned to normal.

Well...

Patches didn't get his tasty pinto bean.
On the bright side, he was not executed or even scourged.
Better yet, I did get to go to bed - finally.

As I made my way up the back steps, I looked over my shoulder one last time and growled, "Shut up dogs!"

Patches cowered. Lucy quickly decided to go into her doghouse. As for me, I went to bed and fell asleep.

Note: Patches went on to that big dog house in the sky in August of 2006. We note here that his death was the result of natural causes and not lashes. Fortunately, he never got a beating in his life.

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