When I was around age 7, a lady at church gave us a black spaniel named Pepper. Pepper wasn’t what you’d call a “good dog.” Pepper wasn’t what you’d call a “smart dog” either. He like to do two things; jump on people and chew up stuff. Everything we had outside, had to be put up off the ground or Pepper would ruin it. He’d eat water hoses, the plastic wheels on our big wheels, lawn chairs, etc…
About the time we got Pepper, was about the same time my dad became fire chief for our community volunteer fire department. One Wednesday afternoon the fire department got a call. My dad took off in his new fire chief helmet to take care of business. Even at age 7, we loved to watch dad race up our half-mile driveway with the little red light flashing on the dash board of the red and white striped Dodge van. It was so cool to see someone drive up the driveway that fast.
Anyway, when dad got back, we were in rush to make it to Wednesday night Bible study. So, without thinking he quickly laid his gear on top of the metal trash can in the carport, ran inside, got cleaned up, and then we all hurried off to the church building.
That’s right. While we were gone, Pepper pulled down Dad’s brand new fire chief helmet and went to town on it. As we returned home and pulled around the corner of the carport, there was Pepper and the 10 different pieces of the fire helmet. Dad was furious.
He slammed on the breaks as mom, my brother, and me, looked on in fear of what Dad would do to Pepper. He yelled “stay in the car!”
So, we did.
He got out, went over to the metal trash can where his stuff had been laying and grabbed the can along with the lid. Pepper, being the stupid dog that he was, ran up to dad smiling foolishly as a dog might do and jumped up to greet him. That’s when dad grabbed him by the back of the neck and flung him in to the trash can. Veins started popping out of Dad’s neck as he put the lid on. He rattled and banged the trash can all around the carport. He’d lift up over his head and then slam it into the brick columns holding up the carport. He then grabbed a shovel and started beating the crap out of the trash can. Then he continued banging it on the ground some more. Inside the car we all looked on in horror. Nervously I asked, “Momma, is Dad going to kill Pepper?”
That’s about the time Dad stopped his torture of Pepper. What happened next was about the smartest thing pepper ever did in his short life. He barreled out of the trash can and took off around the house in fear of his life. Too bad for Pepper that he didn’t learn his lesson. The next day Pepper chewed up another water hose. A few days later, we came home from school and Pepper wasn’t there.
We learned a lot about my Dad that night. He is capable of anger and stronger than we thought.