Bad Dog

"You can hang your coat up here," the boss said. "This is kind of a storage area where we keep the sets that have been fixed or are just waiting for parts."
It was my first day on the job, the first full-time job I'd ever had. The boss led me through a doorway into the main part of the shop. "This is the shop area," Roy said. "That ugly guy back there is Don Farrol. He'll show you the ropes and tell you how we run things around here."
The 'ugly guy' was really rather handsome, about six feet tall, with a full head of dark wavy hair. Only his thick glasses detracted from his appearance.
"Nice to meet you," Don said, extending his hand.
"Jim McNeill, nice to meet you. How long have you been working here?"
"I've been here about four years now," Don said. "Roy was good enough to hire me when I had no experience, and I still work here on weekends and whenever he needs extra help."
I could have gotten a better paying job building houses, but a friend had referred me to the TV shop. I had decided to make electronics my life's work, and was anxious to get experience in my chosen field.
"I've got a call to go out on, Don. Mrs. Albert's washing machine is on the blink again, so I'll leave Jim with you." Roy got in his truck and left.
Don showed me how the shop area was laid out, where the tools and test equipment were kept, how the filing system was arranged, and how to work the cash register. "Have you had any training in television?"
"No, but I studied electronics in high school, so I know a little, and I'll start college this fall,"
Don started drawing a block diagram of a TV set when a customer opened the door, and a bell rang announcing his presence. "We'll continue this in a minute," Don said.
"Ah, Mr. Black. We got the parts in finally, and it's all ready to go. Jim, would you get Mr. Black's set out of the back? It's the big Stromberg-Carlson just around the corner there."
I went into the storage area, found the set after a few seconds searching, and brought it out front. I put it down on the counter as Don was explaining what had been replaced, and how much the charges were.
"Plug it in there, Jim. Let him see how good it looks." I plugged the set in and turned it on. In a few seconds the customer was admiring the restored picture.
"That sure looks a lot better than it did, guys. My family will enjoy this." He wrote out a check, and gave it to Don.
"Give him a hand out with it, will you, Jim?" Don asked.
"You bet," I answered. "Where are you parked?"
"I'm parked out in back."
I picked up the set, and followed Mr. Black out the door and down the driveway to where his car was parked. I noticed a small black and white dog chained behind the shop as he walked by. It looked like a border collie, a valued breed in sheep country.
Mr. Black opened the trunk, and I carefully put it in. "Thanks, son."
"My pleasure, sir," I told him. I headed back toward the shop, and glanced at the dog as I walked past. It watched me go by, tongue hanging out, looking intelligent and alert. As I went around the corner of the building, I was startled by a strange noise behind me. I whirled around and danced backward just barely in time to avoid the dog's attack as it charged to the limit of its chain.
The dog snarled and barked, angry at being thwarted. Don heard the noise, and came running out of the shop. "Did he get you?" he cried.
"No, I got out of the way, but he came pretty close," I replied. I was shaken by the suddenness of the unwarranted attack. "Why do you suppose he took after me? I didn't do anything to him."
"That's just the way he is. All you have to do is get close enough, and he'll go for you. Roy should have warned you about him. He's bitten more than one customer, and he's just about got me a time or two. I don't understand why Roy doesn't get rid of it."
"It's weird, he doesn't look at all mean now. I had no idea he was like that." We watched the dog for a few moments, and he looked like any ordinary pooch. He looked back at us, tongue hanging out, tail wagging, the very picture of a happy, friendly dog.
"I'm afraid one of these days Roy's going to be sued over that thing," Don remarked. "It's really insidious how he can look so harmless and friendly one minute, and the next minute he's gnawing your leg off. Stay clear of him, you'll be O.K."
We went back inside, and Don resumed his instructions. By the time Roy came back, I had a good basic understanding of how a television set works.
"Come on out here guys, and help me unload this," Roy called from the doorway.
We went outside, and helped Roy get a large box out of the truck. We opened the crate, and took a large floor model TV out, which we carried inside and placed gently on the floor in the showroom.
"Is this the new color model?" Don inquired.
"Yup," Roy said proudly. "First one the distributor has gotten in. I bet they're all color in a few years."
"What's the setup on these?" Don asked.
"You don't just eyeball one of these babies in," Roy told him. "You have to have special signal generators, demagnetizing coils and things, and it has to be done right by the book. I'll give you both the lowdown on how it's done tomorrow, early. It's about time for you to go, isn't it, Don?"
Don glanced at his watch. "Yeah, Leroy should be pulling in any second. In fact, I think that's him now." They watched as a Studebaker sedan pulled in the driveway, and Leroy waved as he drove around to the back.
We continued admiring the new color TV until Leroy came through the door, limping and cursing. "That damn dog just bit me!" he shouted. We ran to his aid, as he pulled up his pant leg to view the damage. About halfway up his calf were two round puncture wounds, with two more on the opposite side. Blood trickled out of the dark wounds.
"He tried to bite Jim this morning," Don told Roy.
"Damn it, that's the last straw!" Roy exclaimed. "That dog is going to bite another customer one of these days, and I'll get sued. Well, that's the last time he bites anybody around here." He grabbed the phone and viciously dialed a number. "Hello, John? Have you still got your .22 pistol? Well, grab a shovel and bring them both over here. I've got a job for you." He slammed the phone back down.
The three of us looked at each other. It sounded like doggy doomsday had arrived.
John drove up a few minutes later in an old Chevy pickup truck. "John does odd jobs for me now and then, mostly gardening," Roy told Jim.
John got out of the truck, and sauntered over to the group. He wore bib overalls, quite tall and slender, with thinning sandy hair. "What's up Roy, somebody refuse to pay their bill?"
"No," Roy told him. "That dog of mine just bit Leroy here, and tried to bite Jim earlier this morning. I want you to take him down by the bay and shoot him."
John's face fell. "Sounds pretty rough to me, Roy. Can't we just take him up in the hills or someplace and turn him loose?" It was plain that John didn't want the job.
"No, I don't want to run the risk that he'll bite somebody's kid. I know you don't like the idea of shootin' him, I don't either. But it's got to be done. I'll pay you double what you usually get."
The combination of necessity, sympathy and a few extra bucks was a good persuasion. "O.K., I guess so."
They managed to get the dog loaded into the back of the pickup truck without mishap. Roy's presence seemed to put the little beast on his best behavior. John got in the truck and drove away, looking like he had to execute his best friend.
It was something of a shock when he came back a few hours later, smiling and chuckling. "What are you so jolly about? You were pretty glum when you left."
"I've got to tell you what happened."
"I took the dog down to the bay like Roy said. When we got there, I got out of the truck and walked around to the back and looked at the dog for a minute. I thought it was a shame to just shoot him, he looked like such a nice dog. I kinda felt sorry for him. And for me, too."
"There were some duck hunters down the road a piece, so I walked down to where they were, and asked if any of them could use a good hunting dog."
"One of the hunters said his dog had been run over a few weeks before, and he'd been looking for another one. He asked me how much I wanted for it, and I told him if he liked the dog, he could have it free. He liked the price, and he was really getting real enthusiastic about his new dog by the time we got back to the truck."
"We walked around to the back of the truck, and the guy took one look at the dog and then he jumped back and yelled, "Not that son of a bitch! He bit me once!"

You know the rest of the story, don't you?

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