Silver VIP Member
Join Date: Feb 2006
Location: Hermossa Costa Rica
I had this in the possible fight thread, thought I'd put it here so folks could get it that wouldn't otherwise open that thread.
It was A warm hope mills day, 'old boy went to Fairmont to look up some charger parts at A junkyard. As with any junkyard their was the junkyard dog. He was A big 'old cuss, 185# of bull mastiff. The 2 puerto ricans who owned the junkyard he ruled thought he was king.
Well, ' ol boy he moseys on into the yard, the dog comes out A bellerin his authority. 'Ol boy, him one of those that's cast his lot into the game box A many A time rolls his eyes.
One of the owners comes out and proceeds to comment without being obliged to talk about that "dog killer" as he put it. He set his hat to bragging, " oh this one time" and " oh this other time". 'Ol boy politely ask him what the caliber of his foes were, the owner tells him how folks drop strays off, and they come through the gate to eat their "monsters" food. Which they feed him right close to the gate. Well, 'Ol boy, yeah, he games dogs. Yet he knows what the unwritten rules are for being A respected owner/handler of A gladiator is.
Now 'Ol boy is irked, that just burn him raw. He sets his mind to what we often call "the lesson".
He strolls through their yard, he finds him A bait of goods he'd like, and since he's on his scoot he can't haul it. So he ask the fellers if'n they'd deliver the stuff for A fee? Of course they would, as he's walking out the gate he nods to the junkyard dog, says matter'o factly, bring your dog, I got A mutt 1/2 his size that needs A good arse kicking, maybe their dog will straighten him out, so it's set.
It came on to dusk, and he hears A truck lurch to A halt in his front yard. He puts his dog, "General Lee" on the porch and tells him to lay down and mind his business.
Ol boy strolls off the deck to the road, they unload the fenders and bumper for his 69 charger, small talkin, they shake.
He turns to walk away, and with A leering grin, turns back and says, "oh, 'bout that dog matter, the General is ready". Well, them 2 brothers, they get to laughing, " das A small dohg meng".
So, Ol boy calls General from off'n the porch and him being the collective dog he is, ya see, the General, he's cooled the jets on many A dog.
He strolls matter'o fact to stand by his master. One of the brothers smiles and unites the rope holding the bull mastiff to the tow boom. They tell him to get the "pobrecito" meaning poor little one in Spanish.
That big dog Bails off the truck, landing dead on top of Lee. Grips him by the back of the head, not neck, not scruff, whole head, and gives him several viscous shakes, like the ones he'd given to all the dead dogs of his past.
It was heinous by appearance, and of course, the mastiff owners they were giggling as their dog tosses and releases Lee. Ol boy, he's cool about it, he says almost non chalantly, alright General, goto work. Well, when the General turned around, it was obvious to the mastiff owners something was wrong, their dog stiffened, the general, like so many true pits, he starts to squeal, from A guttural whine amping up to A chesty baying. He sets into that big dog, right into A shoulder and in A shake and the drop of A hat he has some fur and draws fluid. In less than A blink he reaches way up and grabs just under the jaw, where their ain't all that scruffy protection and goes to work.
That big old dog finally shakes him off and dives up into the truck cowering under the boom.
Them 2 brothers reached to drag that dog off to finish the rout and he bit at them. One being bit, the other scared of the snarling mass, they look mortified at Ol boy, and ask him to help them get that dog off' the truck, he looks down at the General and says, "Lee, git the dog".
He bailed up on one side, that mastiff bails out the other and takes off running down the dirt road.
Them 2 brothers, still in shock, pile up into their truck, back up to turn around, heading in the opposite direction of the mastiff.
Ol boy tells them they are going the wrong way, they morbidly look at him and tell him, that's not their dog anymore.
General Lee is A real dog, this is A real event, as are the others I've acquired in my 33 years of pits. Lee was about 65#, some say he wasn't all the way game, yet he was an educating roll dog, which on any yard, that's your most important tool next to diet.