Let me set this story up, by saying my roommate has this really cool dog. And usually, he's pretty well-behaved, to the point where you can walk him without a leash. This is good for me, because said roommate basically hides the leash from me for some reason, so just letting him run around is my only option. Usually, this isn't a problem. Usually. You see, we got some new neighbors, including a chick that's been convicted of aggravated assault, her sister that's been convicted of arson, and a couple dudes shacking up with them who are the kind that hang around arsonists and aggravated assaulters. And they got this big-ass black lab. Well, I was unaware that they had the dog till now. I am quite aware now. The dog we have, Issac is usually a pretty laid-back kinda guy, and with the way he's been babies his whole life, he's usually a pussy who does the whole "here, I'll roll over, so you can have my throat" thing when a bigger dog comes around. But apparently, he occasionally remembers he's a pit bull. Like perhaps tonight.
So I hear the dog whimpering like he wants to pee, so I throw on a jacket, slip into my flip-flops (yeah, it's too cold for flip-flops, but I'm hardcore) and head down the steps with Ike a few steps in front of me. He peeks around the corner, and I notice he gets that "oh shit, something's up" look a dog gets sometimes. I figure he's going to start chasing after a cat, (he fucking loves cats, and when they hiss at him, it pretty much breaks his heart) so I do a half-assed "no, Issac," and yell for him to come back over here. Then, I see the big ass lab. Immediately, there's one of those doggy stare-downs, and I know I have to intervene before something - Fuck. Too late. The dogs pretty much latch on to each other and start those sick-ass dogfight growls, and I start chasing them down, trying to grab Issac off the other dog, (for the record, and to the lab's credit, it seemed to be a draw the whole time) as Drunk Redneck Guy storms down the steps and starts yelling at me, like this was my idea, saying he's going to stab my dog, and trying to get a lab that's easily 100 pounds to stop fighting by pulling on his tail. Yeah, that'll work. Finally, with a new sense of urgency from drunk guy actually pulling a knife, I grab Issac in a headlock and take him down, then lay on him, while the assaulter and the arsonist try to calm the situation down, with one pulling their dog upstairs, while the other tells dude to stop yelling and that their dog's okay. After drunk dude assures me that I'll be paying his vet bills, (while arsonist continues telling him there's nothing wrong with their dog) I head up to the top of our stairs, where Issac has that look smart dogs get when they know they've fucked up, and the situation is over. I did make sure to lock the doors, though.
Anyway, my feet, hands, wrists, and one knee are all clawed up, and Ike looks like hell, but he looks like hell in a pretty superficial way. Just a few little scratches on his nose and below his ear. And the shitty part of all this? I still don't know where the leash is, and this dog still has to take a shit.
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