This is my post for #freewriters Friday prompt little dog hosted by
The dog in the picture was one of my daughter's dogs that we inherited. He was a dachshund but for a dachshund, he was not a little dog short yes but he was taller than most dachshunds he was also a fat little guy.
This was the bravest dog that I have ever "owned". One day we heard a lot of growling and hissing and my husband yelled for me saying Dobbie has the neighbor's cat. We ran to the noise and saw a coon on top of him, he was on his back. I picked up a stick and started hitting the coon, yelling bad coon, bad coon. It finally let go and my husband grabbed the dog. Then the coon started towards me and I had to whack it again. My husband said she must have babies nearby.
Poor Dobbie had teeth holes all over his body and when he woke the next day he sounded like an old man trying to walk.
Another time my husband had shot a wild hog and it ran off. He took Dobbie and our rottweiler to find it. Dobbie picked up the blood trail and found the hog, it was laying down in a patch of palmettos. When he saw it he tried to attack it. My husband had to hold him back and shot the hog and you would have thought that Dobbie made the kill he was hopping around like he was so proud.
He was also good at finding moles in the yard. I do not know how he knew where they were but he would dig a hole so deep that all you could see was the tip of his tail and he would come out with a mole.
He was 22 years old and nearly blind. I came home late in the afternoon from fishing. The sun was in my eyes as I pulled into the yard. I can still see my husband's face as he came running across the yard telling me to stop. I did not know what was going on but his look told me it was bad. I ran over Dobbie.
photo is mine