Loveable old Dirtbag...
Max was a shepherd/husky mix with a curly tail and tan fur, and was one of the sweetest old dogs you could ever meet. Due to his habit of rolling in mud, he was known as Dirtbag- and responded to it as well.

One morning he got loose outside as I was dressing my son for church. I heard a screech of tires, followed by a series of screaming yelps, and ran outside expecting to see him on the ground in a puddle of blood. Instead I found a slightly stunned older guy getting out of his pickup, and no dog.

I looked around. "Where is he?"

The guy pointed to the side of the house. "He went over there."

I went around the house and called for him, and he came loping across the lawn, tail between legs. Not limping, moving normally... I was puzzled. He didn't protest when I ran my hands over him- he seemed completely uninjured until I rubbed him on the head and he yelped.

I returned to the front after putting the dog inside, and found the guy still standing there. "He seems to be okay... what happened?"

"I was driving along and he ran into the side of my truck. Look, you can see his tracks."

Sure enough, there were four paw prints that looked like they skidded, and a puddle of piss between them.

Max never went near the road again- I think he was afraid that someone would hit him over the head with a truck again.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Thu 14 Jun 2007, 15:14, Reply)