The Stand Off

March 7, 2024

He was small, maybe even a bit scrawny, but he was tough. He was quick, street smart and he wouldn’t back down from a fight. His name was Digger and he was our dog. Digger was a small brown mutt of questionable lineage.  His mother’s owner told us that he was the product of unholy matrimony between a Bichon Frise male and a Pomeranian cross female. When he came to live with us in the fall of 1992, we weren’t too concerned about his lineage. The kids were overjoyed to have a puppy, even though we were to soon discover, a puppy with issues.

Digger’s philosophy when it came to strangers, whether human or animal, was to strike first, ask questions later. Maybe it was due to his diminutive size that he suffered a canine version of Napoleon complex. I looked it up. Napoleon complex is “a purported condition normally attributed to people of short stature, with overly aggressive or domineering social behavior”. Maybe it applies to dogs too…

The strange thing is that once he became familiar with someone and trust was established he became as gentle as a lamb. In spite of his faults he was lovable. Once you got past the aggressive posture, he was actually quite charming and smart as a whip. He quickly learned several tricks and his favorite game was to play hide and seek, where a family member would hide and Digger would delight in finding them. 

As many dog owner’s know, one problem is what to do with the dog when the family is away on vacation. Grandma and Grandad didn’t seem overly thrilled the first time we asked if Digger could stay at their farm for a “sleepover” while we were away, but they grudgingly agreed. It didn’t take long for Digger to win them over. On picking him up after staying for a week or so we were happy to learn that Digger had somehow found his way into their hearts. They were used to dogs, however, farm dogs were never allowed in the house. We were surprised to find out that Digger had somehow wheedled his way into sleeping on their bed at night, even making his way up onto the pillows between them in the end! Of course it didn’t help that Grandma spoiled him by making him a sandwich, (with real butter!) before bed.

So Digger had a light side, and a dark side. And he had a few peculiar habits as well. One was that if he was riding in the car, he would growl and snap at any oncoming trucks, and only trucks. Cars were never a problem but Digger had to declare his contempt to any truck that we met. And the bigger the truck, the bigger the snap and snarl!

It was on his visits to the farm that we came to understand Digger’s philosophy regarding other animals. He seemed to be born with a deep loathing of cats and soon any cats on the farm would make themselves scarce when he came to visit. During one of his farm stays he decided to have a go at a porcupine, with of course, the predictable result of a mouthful of quills!

In spite of intelligence, Digger didn’t seem to learn that lesson with porcupine. A year or two later Digger went back for a second helping of porcupine pie. We were walking in the bush with Digger running ahead. Suddenly we heard excited barking and I ran to find that Digger had cornered a porcupine under a fallen log. In typical fashion, old porky buried his face under the log with his tail  projecting out swishing left and right. Digger mimicked the porcupine's tail swishes, his head bobbing in anticipation of the perfect attack moment. Thankfully that moment never came as I was able to grab him by the tail and pull him to safety just in time.

Another time, shortly after this, Digger decided to take on an even more dangerous challenge. After the porcupine incident, I decided that it would be safer to keep Digger on a leash while walking in the bush. As we were close to home I deemed it safe to take off the leash. Once again, Digger ran ahead and once again we heard excited barking. Thinking he had found another porcupine, we ran ahead only to find Digger squaring off with a much fiercer foe. There was Digger growling and snapping at a badger, with the badger staring at Digger with equal malevolence! Even though I had never seen a badger in the wild before, it was obvious that it would not be a prudent idea to referee this cage match. Digger was so close to the badger that I dare not try to grab his tail. Thankfully there was a broken tree branch nearby and I was able to somehow get the branch in front of Digger and push him to safety. And then, the most curious thing happened. The badger, realizing that he needed to leave the scene quickly, employed a curious behavior. Instead of running away, he took a look at us and then began to dig and in the space of what seemed only a few seconds, he had disappeared under the ground. IF I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’t have believed it possible.

Digger went on to live a long life, making both friends and enemies along the way. When we said goodbye to him after 17 years, the house was quiet and somehow I think the cats and wild critters must have relaxed a bit.