The Dog That Chose the Wrong Side
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You know how kids can sometimes bully you with their cute little faces into making decisions that will ruin your life? That’s exactly what happened to me. “Mom, please, we need a dog! Everyone has a dog!” they chanted like it was some holy chorus from heaven. I thought, fine—maybe it’s a good idea. After all, dogs guard, they bark at thieves, they chase goats and cows away like good, loyal soldiers. So I gave in, thinking, “This could work. Two in one—kids happy, and thieves terrified.” What I didn’t know was that I was signing a contract with the devil himself disguised in fur.
I thought it best to be responsible and adopt from SPCA. Surely safer, right? Wrong. Big mistake. Huge. The day that dog came into our yard, it was like the universe whispered, watch this chaos unfold. I swear the dog was bewitched. Instead of barking at stray goats and cows that strolled down the road, the dog jumped the wall—yes, like an Olympic high jumper—and ran straight to befriend them. Imagine my face, watching this so-called guard dog wagging its tail at cows like they were long-lost cousins.
But the day that broke me was the cabbage incident. I had just come back from the market, happily clutching a cabbage I had been craving like it was treasure. I opened the gate, only to find a GOAT inside the yard—playing with our dog as if they were soulmates. Before I could even shout, the goat looked at me, then at the cabbage, and suddenly it was on. That goat charged like a raging bull, and I… well, let’s just say I didn't care about anything but my life, I ran. I ran like the cabbage thief I wasn’t, with the goat on my heels and my dog happily joining the chase—except he wasn’t chasing the goat, oh no. He was chasing me, Yes ME. My children’s laughter could have been a soundtrack to my humiliation.
The goat finally got what it wanted when I tossed the cabbage to save my life. It munched away while my so-called protector of the house pranced around as if it had organized the entire playdate. That was the day I knew: this dog was not for me. Within two months, it was back at the SPCA, and please, don’t you dare judge me. That wasn’t even the first disaster.
After everything when my brother saw me return the dog, he decided he’d “get a proper dog” to keep the peace with the kids. He came back smiling proudly with another four-legged monster, swearing this one was “different.” And you know what? He was right. Different is the word. If the first was bewitched, the second was simply Demonic. The kind of dog that made you think twice about entering your own house, like you suddenly lived with a landlord from hell.
But that, my friends, is a story for another day. For now, just know—never let your children’s puppy eyes convince you to bring a creature into your home that might secretly be working against you. Because sometimes, the thieves you’re trying to stop aren’t half as scary as the dog you brought in to guard against them.
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