Bimbo was my sisters dog. You would never know it was hers though because when it came to feeding and watering him, it usually fell on me or my little brother. He was blind in one eye and by far the dumbest dog I have ever come across. There was a little Brittany in him from the liver colored spots on him. I always figured he was ten percent Brittany and ninety percent dumb mutt. He weighed about fifty pounds and was a good dog to play with. He would grab the football by the laces and go running away playing keep away from my brother and I while we were trying to play a little football. He would try his best to get the baseball from us and take off running. More than one cover was chewed off of baseballs during his time with the family. Dad use to get irritated but we eventually had a new baseball to play with.
He was a dog that got in the way more often than not. Since he was a big dog and my mother does not particularly care for big dogs he spent most of his life outdoors in the elements. He had a covered porch to sleep on though so as far as I knew he never complained.
Guts was a football drill that Coach Allard use to run us through all of the time. It was designed to improve on tackling skills for one player and for running skills for the other. The playing field was all of six feet wide and you were not allowed under any circumstance to go outside that six yard area. The two individuals would stand about ten feet apart, one with the football and the other waiting. The player with the football would take of running within the six foot area at the defender whose primary job was to stop the runner in his tracks and plant him as deep into the ground as possible. When playing this little drill in the back yard with the brother, I always preferred to be the defensive player. You could inflict a lot more pain that way and I was always looking for ways to do physical harm to my brother.
One summer day we were outside with Bimbo playing guts and having a rather good time. I was consistently pounding him into the ground and was feeling pretty good about it. Our neighbor Brian came walking over from across the street. He was a scrawny little kid my brothers age. He was friendly and we had some good times with him but on this day we just wanted it to be the two of us pounding on each other over a football.
Brian came up to the gate and started to talk which slowed the game down terribly. He did not want to play guts with us. I think he was afraid of getting hit too hard. I know that fear and I had felt that fear before. I do not like pain either which was why I enjoyed playing guts with my little brother so much. Both of us decided that we did not want Brian to interfere with our game and so we tried to bring up excuses on why we couldn't play with him. They were pretty lame excuses because how can you tell someone that you can't play when you are out there playing.
Brian eventually left and we continued our game. It wasn't long before Brian was back at the gate of the fence though asking if we wanted to play some basketball or baseball or something. We did not. And so the excuses continued to be made.
Pretty soon Bimbo awoke from his afternoon nap on the porch and came up to the side of the house to see what was going on. He was interested in the football and on getting in on the tackles after they were made. He would watch, wait then jump on the two of us as we lay sprawled out on the ground.
Brian did not like Bimbo. He was a little afraid of him and wouldn't come in the back yard because the size of the dog intimidated him a bit. As Brian was standing at the gate. Bimbo walked slowly over towards him. As Brian stood there pathetically begging us to come into the front yard to play Bimbo began sniffing around.
Suddenly the need for excuses not to play with Brian on this day disappeared. Bimbo deliberately lifted his leg and let go a stream of urine that hit Brian about thigh high and soaked one whole pant leg of his jeans. Brian cursed a little under his breath before accusing us of making the dog perform the act intentionally. He then turned and stormed across the street to his house.
I felt bad later on about not playing with Brian that day. It wasn't a very nice thing to do and we probably should have included him in some sort of activity.
We liked Brian, just not on that day. Then again, Brian wasn't smart enough to take a hint while the dumbest dog in the world could get it and give Brian the ultimate "get lost" message.