Winchester

Hi all:

It's good to be back on-line after a long absense. I hope you all had a wonderful holiday.

I once had a crazy but lovable (at least I loved him) English bulldog, Winchester, who I've featured in my book: "50 Frogs, 5 Babes and a Bulldog." Here is a chapter about him and how he reacted to my gentlemen callers when I was out there in the dating world looking for a nice guy. Since it's a novel, some parts are embellished, but I believe Winchester's personality is accurately described.

"The Little Man and the Gentlemen Callers"

Winchester created chaos right from the beginning of my ‘find a man’ quest, beginning with Harry, whom I contacted through a newspaper ad. From what he wrote, Harry seemed like a nice guy.

Things went pretty smoothly on our first date at the movies. I was not physically attracted to the man. He was much shorter then me, and resembled a small walrus with his over-sized, drooping mustache and protruding upper teeth. However, I enjoyed his company. He was fun to be with, intelligent and a good conversationalist.

Harry asked me out for New Year’s Eve. Since I had nothing else to do, I readily accepted. Sitting at home alone with Winchester, his bed, his ball and his gas was not my idea of an exciting way to bring in the New Year. Since we didn’t want to deal with celebrating crowds, I suggested we spent a more quiet evening at my place, watching a good movie. Harry readily agreed. I opted for take-out pizza since my culinary efforts were more than awful. He offered to buy.

All three of us gorged ourselves with a delicious (no cheese portion for Winchester), extra-large pizza with all the trimmings. My little man loves pizza; however it doesn’t always set well with his gastric system. I sprayed the room vigorously with doggie deodorizer, just in case.

Then Harry and I settled down on my couch for an evening of Denzel Washington’s latest thriller out on DVD. Winchester’s bed was hidden, so that problem was out of the way. And he didn’t engage in his usual ball activity (swooshing the ball out of his mouth, frantically running after it, and knocking over everything in sight in the process). Instead, he sat down on the floor in front of us and watched our every move. I could have sworn he was glaring.

When Harry tried to adjust his position or even scratch his head, Winchester let out a low growl. His actions seemed to annoy Harry, so I got up and pulled him by the collar out of the room. But I was no match for my dog’s brute strength. He wiggled loose from my grip and continued his watch in front of Harry and me. This was probably the only time he forgot about his ball, because he was too obsessed with the two of us sitting on the couch. He never took his eyes off my gentleman caller.

Less than 20 minutes into the movie, Harry suddenly jumped up. “Happy New Year!” he shouted, as he hurried to my door with Winchester nipping at his heels. Thank God he slammed the door fast behind him before my little man could chase him to his car. Moments after Harry left, Winchester settled down on the rug, let out a series of brummphs and immediately went to sleep. Such were the joys of that New Year’s Eve.

Then there was Carl, whom I met through a neighbor. He was a nice enough person—kind and well-mannered, though he looked terribly under-nourished. I felt sorry for the guy, so I invited him over for a decent meal (my usual take-out pizza) and a movie.
After hiding Winchester’s bed and spraying the room, I set up TV trays. The three of us put away an entire jumbo pizza before settling down for an evening watching a Jack Lemmon comedy. This time, I suggested we sit in my two recliners, across the room from each other. Obviously, that seating arrangement was to Winchester’s liking because he ignored us and engaged in his usual ball activity. I paid him no attention and concentrated on the movie.

Carl, however, couldn’t take his eyes off my little man He found him to be much more interesting than Jack Lemmon. “When I tell my friends about this dog, they will never believe me,” he laughed.

Carl quickly lost his sense of humor when he went to use the john. As soon as he disappeared inside my bathroom, Winchester started his bathroom action. He began nipping and banging against the bathroom door, and running up and down the adjoining hallway, making the most frightening sounds he could muster up. The little man was showing Carl that he was the most ferocious dog in the world. It was a behavior he exhibited with all my bathroom occupants except, of course, me.

Since Winchester refused to let the poor man out of my bathroom, Carl yelled for help. I held my dog by the collar and told Carl to move out quickly. To my dismay, Winchester, with the strength of King Kong, pulled loose. Carl flew through my small living room towards the front door with Winchester at his heels and me running close behind.

My dog flew right out the door after Carl. Luckily, he managed to jump in his car and slam the door. Winchester immediately turned his energy towards attacking Carl’s front tire. I let out a yell for help and tried to grab him. Thank God, the guy next door was out watering his lawn. He ran over and grabbed Winchester by the collar, so Carl could take off without running over him. Another of my little man’s obsessions is chasing and attacking cars. He has absolutely no fear.

I never heard from the man again. I guess he found another friend without a dog.

I knew there was a “slight” problem with Winchester and my social life, but I loved my little man I would just have to find a guy who understood strange dogs. My quest continued…