DJ 'n' Thor

RL
Waited years to finally get revenge on my daughter for all those embarrassing times in the supermarket.
The tantrums she threw at the sweet aisle, the ‘can I haves’ the ‘I want this’
So now she’s 11, older than 11 year olds used to be also.
She cares about what she’s wearing, how she looks, in fact, I now embarrass her!
Good! That’s ammo baby!
After paying for the shopping, and on our way out, I stop by the many small toddler rides they have there.
Damn supermarkets, why put these rides here?
“Mummy mummy, I wanna fly the helicopter ride!!”

Today, I stop, and in an extremely loud voice ask my daughter “Jess!! You want to ride in the Noddy car!!”
She looks mortified!
Good!
“Do you? Climb in!”
She reddens, in fact she hides her head with her arms.
I ask “Whats the matter? You used to scream at me to ride these?!”
“I have change, in you pop!”
Now she is looking at me like I have gone completely mad.
“Are you embarrassed Jess?”

Good!

Must suck having a mother that holds grudges!

The journey home, and the conversation turns to a dog I had when I was young.
I loved this dog so much.
Was in Zimbabwe, we had gone to visit a friend, well my parents had.
He specified I not go into the garden, because he had a guard dog chained up.
The adult conversation bored me, I remember fully, slipping out the patio doors, and entering the garden.
I found a massive Alsatian there, chained up.
He barked at me, showed his teeth etc, I didn’t care, wasn’t afraid of him.
My early understanding of animals may explain why I work with them now.

He wasn’t going to hurt me, I just knew.
I approached him, and yes, he made a big show of ‘don’t get any closer, I’m a bad man!’
But I did anyway, because I didn’t believe him

I let him off that damn chain, I was maybe 9 years old, and done that.
I stroked him, and talked to him, and well, he loved me.
There were no toys in that garden, just his food bowl by his kennel.
So I used that as a Frisbee.
We had fun, I threw it, and he ran after it, this dog was having a rare moment of having fun.

At some point the adults noticed I was gone, and rushed into the garden.
Mortified faces, the owner somewhat worried his big bad dog was off the chain, and near a child.
My parents horrified, and scared
Then a moment where the adults realised there was no panic, no death would occur, the dog indeed no *killer, and they stood there bemused.

*Found out later, he was indeed a killer, was trained to kill black people, I’m not racist, and this disgusted me, was not the dogs fault either, had been trained to do it, what happens in Zimbabwe, is political, and not allowed on this forum, so I will not go into it*

The owner seeing how happy his dog was, offered him to my parents, and they accepted, I guess the guy maybe did want the best for that dog, wanted a better life for it, than being chained up all day.

I took this dog home; Thor was his name, big strong intelligent animal.
Because the nights in Zimbabwe were always warm, dogs slept outside, without any training, this dog slept outside my window from day one.

He was always very loyal to me, sometimes too loyal, we had to be careful inviting my and my brothers friends over. He would often attack them, if we were in a scuffle.
Protecting me.
One day, he went for the throat of one boy, instinctively, the boy brought his arm up, and Thor latched onto that.
I’m in no doubt; he was attempting to kill him.
My black friends could not come around any more, because my dog would actively guard them, in a nasty sense, follow them around, growling constantly.
Friends would have to be told ‘no sudden movements’
He did bite a few people, and well, he was also the leader of a herd of wild dogs. So would actively kill neighbours’ dogs. Unfortunately, being territorial, that’s what you get leaving an animal to go wild.

He would jump the fence at any given moment and join this pack, and they would be gone for hours.
However he would be back at nightfall to sleep outside my bedroom window.
In the evenings, I would call ‘Thor, fetch your bowl!’
And he would bring it into the kitchen for his dinner.

He was wild, and a victim of neglect, and the finished product of racially motivated training.

But, I loved this dog. Love him still, although he is a long time dead.

One day, my parents informed me they had to leave Zimbabwe, because it was politically unstable, no they never said that, but I grew to understand in later years why we left.
We were to come back to Britain.
My parents friends agreed to take Thor.
The day we dropped him off, my father had to push the car up the road, so Thor wouldn’t hear the engine start, and come running.
This day was the last time I saw this dog

I’m 36 years old now; I still carry his picture in my purse.
For 27 years I have carried this dog’s picture!!
Can you imagine?
When my purse is displaced, I care not of my debit cards, my store cards and my credit cards, I care not of the money I may lose, I utterly panic of losing Thor’s picture.
It’s the only one I have, it’s battered and old, and I treasure it.
I have never got around to making a copy, but should!
I’m totally haunted on what happened to him for the rest of his life. Was he happy, did he die nicely, was he loved, and taken care of, like I loved him?

I’m not a nutter, I’m sane, I don’t know why I still feel pain over this, but I do.
I feel, I let him down in truth, this dog became attached to me, wanted to be my friend, I liberated him off that chain, gave him some attention. And then, I left him.
Deserted him.

My father is a religious man, I had a Christain upbringing, which can also equal ‘disturbing’ upbringing.
There is no after life for animals, not according to the bible anyway.
The reason why, it doesn’t have to written there is. If we have an after-life, if we in-fact become Gods, we can bring back any thing we choose.
I think when I die, I will just rot, have no firm beliefs in anything now.
Now its not brainwashed into me.
However, if I was proved incorrect, and there was an after-life, I wish, and tell myself, I would have this dog by my side again

To end, I tell my daughter to change the subject, I cannot discuss this dog any further, because it makes me cry, as I have done, writing this.

To Thor