Dog Attack... and again.

It was the very first winter in our new home when the snow fell so thick I did not think Harley could get our Toyota out of the driveway. It was actually only about 10 inches but I did not have much experience with snow back then. So, out I went to shovel the snow before sun up. I wore my warmest winter coat I had at the time, a full length with flared out hem that I had made reversible with two layers of 100% wool and thick quilt batting. It was thick to say the least and there was a lot of fabric in it. 

Photo courtesy Wikimedia Commons

While shoveling the snow, my neighbor let her Airedale Terrier full grown dog, Charlie, out to do his business. Charlie stood on all fours at a height that placed his head at my waist line. The dog was huge. The moment out the door, Charlie came snarling and barking right towards me. He ran so fast that by the time I turned around to face him he already had a mouth full of my winter coat and succeeded at bruising my rump with his teeth. 

What happened next could only be a result of divine intervention as there was no way I was strong or fast enough to defend myself from such an attack. As Charlie bit, I turned to face him and yelled "back off!" That was all I did. The dog's countenance instantly changed from snarling to quiet, and, he literally backed up some thirty feet away from me to sit down in my side yard in the deep snow drifs.

Charlie's owner came running out after Charlie in night clothes and house slippers. She stood on the sidewalk some 50 feet from Charlie yelling at him to return to the house, but, Charlie just looked at me as if expecting something from me. He paid no attention to his master. I looked at my neighbor, then at Charlie, then back at my neighbor. Not really understanding what was going on, I looked again at Charlie and said, "Go." I waived my hand toward their house and Charlie instantly got up and trotted back into their front door which had remained open for the ordeal.

In the days that followed, my neighbor had apologized profusely. She said many times that they had never seen this kind of behavior from Charlie. They had always known Charlie to be a gentle dog that they trusted with their own very young nieces and nephews. But, then it happened again. A few short days and another snow storm later, I was out shoveling the snow again. Charlie was let out to do his business and again came snarling and barking at me.

I turned, yelled "back off" (before he bit my butt) and Charlie again backed up to sit in the snow. Again, his owner came running in her night clothes and slippers. Again, Charlie ignored her. And, yes, again I stood dumbfounded, ignorant of the threat and why Charlie did not obey her. So, I told Charlie, "Go" and he did so instantly just as before. 

The oddest thing about these two attacks is not really Charlie's behavior. The oddest thing is my lack of fear, panic or anger. This is not a normal response for such circumstances. Besides, normally humans have no power to control animals in this way. ONE Thing I know for absolute sure about my response, it did not come from me. It was so surreal and in such slow motion that it literally felt like there was a huge angel standing over me and giving me the utterances, strength and peace in the face of such terror.

These dog attacks took place not long after I had dedicated my life to Jesus. I was not yet accustom to seeing such wondrous sights. Looking back, I now know that when God does things it is often times in pairs as a kind of "swearing by Himself." I also know now that when man abides in Jesus, animals are far more receptive to man's authority than what we humans give animals credit for. 

I've had a good number of such experiences with wild and tamed animals. Though, I have to admit most of these experiences were of the harmless variety. If you would like to read more of these true stories, please let me know either by liking the post which brought you to this article or by commenting below.

Copyright (c) 2012 by Diane Pebley All rights reserved, no use granted without the express written permission of the author, Diane Pebley