Grandpa Ray

Ray Spear was my grandfather, my dad’s dad. We are mostly sure that he was born on June 23, 1897, exactly 60 years to the day before I was born.

In 1971, he died much too young at the age of 74 of a heart condition that these days would probably have merely slowed him down for a while. Had he been born just ten years later he might easily have lived into his 80s. After all, his own dad died in 1937 at the age of 87.

Ray Spear was 20 in 1917 when the United States began canvassing the country for recruits to go and fight “the Hun” in France. The story goes that he was rated 4F due to flat feet and rejected for military service. Perhaps it was fate; otherwise the family tree branch from which I was derived might well have ended before it even had a chance to sprout.

His full name was Ray, not Raymond, and he was always known as the mechanically gifted one. He was the second oldest of his six brothers and one sister. Oddly enough, five of them had three letter first names—Glen, Ray, Irl, Leo, Dor, Bud, Florence, and Seth. Being the youngest, Seth’s nickname was Bab, pronounced “Babe,” and also spelled with just three letters, I suppose to carry on the three-letter tradition.

My dad, Eugene, explained what it was like to live on a family farm in the middle of “The Thumb” of Michigan a hundred years ago:

“Let's see...Glen; my dad, Ray;...Irl; Leo; Dor; Florence; Bud...and...Seth. So they had 8 kids. That's what all the farmers did back then: they had big farms, so they needed plenty of kids to work the farm, clear stumps and such. My dad remembered his dad making him get up every Saturday morning to dig out big old stumps so they could clear out another 4 or 5 acres to plant the following year…"

Their father, George, born in 1850, married Hettie Green, their mother, who was born in 1869. Old men marrying much younger women was common back then, which is why the last Civil War bride might still be alive today, or only just recently died.

Being extraordinarily resourceful, whenever the family farm required a new wagon or if any of the other myriad contraptions on the farmstead needed repair, my grandfather was the one the family depended on to either fix it, make it, or to invent it.

After several of his business ventures failed in automobile brake repair—sometimes because advances in technology passed him by, or simply due to the punishing role of the Great Depression and once due to a fire that destroyed his garage—Grandpa Ray at last found his life’s work with the Michigan Highway Department in vehicle maintenance. He stayed more than 30 years with “Roads and Highways” from the 1930’s until his retirement in the mid 1960’s.

By the time I knew him he was an old man, but pictures exist of my grandfather back in his “hey day” in the “Roaring 20s” when from the seat of his motorcycle he courted my grandmother, Elizabeth Metzger of Marlette. Back then, with paved roads being the exception and dust and mud being the rule, riding a motorbike took a tough and adventurous sort. In the old photo from the 20’s, he is quite the snappy dresser; the way he is attired reminds me of The Great Gatsby.

Right up until the time of his myocardial infarction Ray was strong and productive. In fact, at the very moment that he was struck down he was right in the middle of building a good sized two-story combination shed and workshop for his cottage on the lake (see below).

I remember exploring the large garage that he had also built out behind his house. It was a musty brick structure that—although forlorn and dingy looking—still exists today on Gratiot Road. Over the decades he continued to expand it with more rooms and additions. I was in awe of the hundreds of tools and mysterious devices that he had either built or was tinkering with that I found throughout the expansive building.

It seems he always had a new undertaking in work that either involved welding, mechanics, carpentry, masonry or all four. Ray came from the generation directly after the Wright Brothers when self-schooled men developed their own engineering skills, sometimes, as with the Wrights, “on the fly.” They were amazing people from whom the term “American ingenuity” originated, and Ray Spear was right there amongst them.

Not long after his retirement, he bought property overlooking a lake west of Saginaw in Central Lower Michigan near the town of Edmore. My dad described that particular project to me a few years back:

“You know—that was fabulous what he did there. It’s not like he went down to the lumberyard and just bought what he needed. He went downtown in Saginaw and bought an old house that was going to have to be destroyed and removed. He hired a couple of teenage boys for a few bucks per hour and with hammers and wrecking bars they tore the house apart, board by board. He and those kids worked hour after hour removing the nails. The house was so old—2x4s today are actually 1 3/4 by 3 ½, because they’re planed, but these were the full-sized original 2x4s. It was old-fashioned rough-hewn lumber. So he planed all that on a planer that he built from scratch. He put the blades and motor, everything, into it. He’d just take a board, run it through, and it came out planed to the dimensions of a modern day "2 x 4." And then he took a big carbide saw and used it to slice raw rock to make the fireplace facing and mantle from from different types of large stones he’d found on his property. Now that’s REALLY building from scratch.”

An 8 mm home movie exists of my brother and sisters and I walking with Grandpa Spear down to the small wooden dock on the lake below his cottage. Being the oldest, I wasn’t quite 10 years old at the time. He was already 70 and yet he’s easily carrying in one hand an outboard motor and a full can of gas in the other. Its only now that I’m starting to feel old and achy that I realize how amazingly robust and vital he still was.

In fact, his strength and reflexes might well have spared me a broken neck during that same trip out to his cottage. I wasn’t paying attention when I entered through the back door and suddenly I was falling. I had stepped through a trapdoor going down into a small utility room. My grandpa was standing at the bottom of the ladder and easily caught me before I could land and break something. Thinking back, now I remember Grandma giving him holy heck for not closing the trapdoor and “almost killing me.” I think he knew she was right and he just let her fret about it for a very long time. He stayed silent, but I could tell he felt very bad about it. Usually when she fussed at him like that for more than a few minutes he would just tell her quietly and sternly, “Hush woman.”

My grandparents became Baptists in the 50s. Grandma Spear’s forte was cooking and once her tantalizing fare was spread out in front of us on the table, Grandpa would intone a pre-meal grace of thanks. Being raised Catholic and used to the venerable and wonderfully brief “Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty; through Christ our Lord. Amen;” I was always intrigued when my grandpa would go into his extemporaneous Baptist style of prayer. Whereas our Catholic grace was said and done in less than 5 seconds, Grandpa Spear’s prayers could go on for a seemingly interminable 45 seconds and more.

Thinking back on Grandpa Ray’s personality, he tended toward strong and tranquil, his speech always slow and measured. I don’t remember him being a chatterbox or allowing anger or emotion to get the best of him. I think if he’d served in the military that he would have easily advanced through the sergeant ranks. People who knew him respected him. He was a natural leader. Even today, 36 years after his passing, people still speak well of him.

In fact, his reputation was so solid that it might be the reason my mom married my father. When Grandpa Haley heard that his daughter was going on a date with a young man from Shields, he was NOT happy. “Shields boys” were known for being rowdy and quick with their fists. But once Grandpa learned that my father was Ray Spear’s boy, now THAT changed everything; and it was probably a good thing too, since my father admits he really WAS a typical rowdy Shields boy! Well, my mom tamed him of all that and the rest is family history.

Whenever I visit my parents’ Michigan home I enjoy relaxing out on their little back porch. It’s a great place to have coffee and watch the birds flit about among the flowers and bushes. Inevitably, my eyes stray from that natural splendor to the simple exquisiteness of a modest plant stand made long ago by the hands of a kid—that kid being my Grandpa Ray. Seeing that crude yet sturdy ancient stand pulls my thoughts 50 miles east to what used to be the Spear family farmhouse and to the room in that house that no longer exists, except in my mind, where that three-legged little stand sat for close to 70 years.

The Spear farmhouse was located five miles east of Kingston. By the time I remember it, it was a creaky moldering relic of its once vibrant self. By the 60’s only two of the original “boys” still lived there, and soon it was only one. Glen and Leo were very old, although not as old as the house, and didn’t have the know-how or the time to keep that ancient edifice from falling ever deeper into ruin.

One of the wonderful aspects of that hundred-year-old dwelling was the formal parlor. My dad said during its prime it was filled with his Grandma’s plants and flowers. Basically a sunroom, its large bay window faced south and east overlooking Route 46.

The parlor was the place Grandpa George sat in his rocker for the last 20 or so of his 87 years. From that room he could watch out the big window at Hettie as she worked in her famous garden (folks from miles around would stop in to see it) and he'd see what was coming and going out on the road. Occasionally he would call his boys and have them prune back a tree branch or two when they blocked his view of the outside world.

My dad, just 9 at the time, told me of the last days he saw his Grandpa George. After he died, the old fellow lay there in that sunny parlor in his coffin for three days before finally being laid to rest in the nearby Marlette Cemetery. My father clearly remembers his grandfather sporting his full white beard and wearing his very best dark suit. Hettie pulled a cot into the parlor and slept there every night next to her deceased husband.

Near my great grandfather’s coffin, as he lay in state there in the parlor, was the plant stand. By 1937 it was already about 30 years old, having been constructed around 1910 by my Grandpa Ray. The fact that he built it nearly 100 years ago causes me to marvel every time I see it.

For most of its existence as furniture the plant stand was indoors. When Uncle Leo, “the last brother,” died in 1979, my father acquired the stand at auction from the old farmhouse. Even though he’s lacquered it every spring since he got it, I’m afraid its outside life these past 30 years has taken its toll.

When I first saw it and had a chance to pick it up I was surprised at its heft—it’s basically just a tall three-legged stool, but it is heavy. My grandfather used green cherry wood branches and slender nails to put it together. I don’t know if he pre-drilled the holes before nailing the pieces together, but I assume he must have since none of the wood has split at the nails. He didn’t remove the bark, which to me always made the piece seem that much more charmingly roughhewn. Remarkably, its only now after being left outdoors these past few decades that the bark is beginning to come loose.

Also remarkable is its steadiness. It sits perfectly level, and the very nature of having just three legs instead of four makes it very stable. Try building anything with four supports and you’ll see how hard it is to get it to sit firm without rocking. A few years back my dad added a topmost platform, but as far as I know, apart from the yearly coats of lacquer, that’s all that’s been done to it.

The fact that the old plant stand was made by my long gone grandfather and all those years ago before he was even a man, makes it all the more special and precious to me. Way back then—almost a century ago—I wonder as he constructed it if he had any inkling that it would still be around in a hundred years, still doing its simple job and even more significantly, reminding his descendants that he existed.


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxThe Plant Stand

Mukasey's "tap-dance" on Waterboarding

I just read something thought provoking--even slightly entertaining--in the Yahoo opinion section. It was by Katrina vanden Heuvel. I’m not sure if I’ve ever read anything by her before, but she’s typical of the modern day haters-of-all-things-Bush.

Katrina’s column is called “Waterboarding Justice,” an almost clever play on words referring to the president’s nominee for Attorney General, Michael Mukasey. She’s not happy with Mukasey’s “tap dance,” as she calls it, around the possible legalities and illegalities of waterboarding as he interviews for the job with the various senators, all the democratic ones much intent on tripping him up.

She wants the probable future AG to come out against this relatively mild, yet extremely uncomfortable (and effective) method of interrogation. As she says, “it simulates the feeling of drowning.” If you’ve ever had water pour into your nose and mouth then you know the panic you’d feel while going through it. The mind shuts off and craves air. No one has ever died from it nor has anyone been seriously hurt. The "beauty" of it is that everyone who has gone through it has broken--no exceptions.

Even so, the CIA reports that it has only used this form of “torture,” as Ms Heuvel needs to call it, just three times in the past four years. I could add the caveat “that we know of,” but to what end? As far as I’m concerned our people should be allowed to use it as often as necessary to continue to keep the world safe from the human beasts that wish to destroy it. Read of life in Afghanistan during the Taliban to find out how they would rebuild it.

Mukasey's answers to the question of waterboarding was indeed a tap-dance, but a necessary one if he wants to be confirmed by certain key legislators. He knows good and well that keeping our war-fighting options open is what is going to continue to keep us free from more attacks. Has anyone noticed that since 9-11 we haven’t had any more terror attacks on US soil? That was due to some luck, but mostly the credit goes to this administration and its lean forward posture of preemption.

It seems that people like vanden Heuvel prefers to look at the CIA and The Justice Department as rogue organizations keen only on freewheeling torture and gratuitous spying on its citizens, all in the name of keeping us safe—banish the thought! I think Katrina has seen too many movies like Syriana and the Bourne series, all of which is mostly unadulterated anti-CIA crapola.

Mr. Mukasey understands all too well that every case requires a different level of understanding before allowing or disallowing the use of waterboarding. We waterboarded Khalid Sheikh Muhammed, the brains behind 9-11, as soon as we could get our hands on him. To wait even a day to do it might have caused actionable intelligence to evaporate with time. Yet unbelievably, people like Ms. Heuvel, and even John McCain, would NOT have allowed it. Americans who understand the threat have no problems with what our people did to this guy to squeeze him. The word is that he broke in 2 and ½ minutes and what we got from him was very actionable indeed. Your comments Ms. Heuvel?

A lot of very nice people will sputter and moan over "losing our souls" as we go about using “horrible” methods of interrogation. I agree with them for the most part. We shouldn’t use it wholesale—but the thing is, we aren’t.

Here’s how I would analogize the decision-making behind when we should waterboard. On 9-11, four airplanes flew above our nation taken over by terrorists looking to kill as many of us as possible. Yet, also onboard those planes were several hundred innocent passengers, all of whom had Constitutional rights. The president had a decision to make—does he impinge on the rights of those captured citizens by killing them when ordering their planes shot down; or, does he hope for the best and continue to honor their right to live, and by doing so, possibly condemn to death thousands more? This kind of situation is exactly what Mr. Mukasey is referring to as he “tap-dances” around the senators' questions. But to Ms Heuvel everything is black and white, Bush is evil, waterboarding is wrong and always wrong, regardless of the circumstances.

I do admire Katrina’s desire that we not “damage our values” in the name of our security, and I share her concerns that we not harm relations internationally, and above all, her concern for the safety of our captured soldiers is commendable.

The fact that we are even discussing the ethics of waterboarding already speaks of our high values, and that we’ve only used it on occasion says even more. Internationally, other nations use far more physically and mentally damaging methods of extracting information, only they don’t speak of such things publicly. To do so destroys the effectiveness of the methods. The fact that we quibble over it causes them to snigger at us behind their hands. Other nations, including those in Europe claim all day long that they don’t condone torture, but they use it when they deem necessary, just as we should, when necessary.

As far as the safety of our captured soldiers, our people already know that to be captured by Al Qaeda means hideous torture and an eventual brutal death, for that’s been the way of it. If we could only talk Al Qaeda into waterboarding our people instead of cutting off their fingers, toes, feet, hands and finally, their heads; now THAT would be a great accomplishment! Now, if only someone could talk Katrina vanden Heuvel into writing THAT article. How about it Ms. Heuvel?

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Blackwater, State Department's Blackmark

R. J. Hillhouse of the Christian Science Monitor just wrote a piece called “Don’t blame Blackwater.” If you haven’t been following the news closely from Iraq then you might not have heard of the security contractor called “Blackwater” employed by the U.S. State Department to keep their people “safe” as they go about their duties in Iraq.

Back in September, Blackwater personnel shot up a Baghdad street when they determined the State Department motorcade they were guarding was "under fire from several locations." What has the Iraqi government upset is that 17 civilians, including a policeman, died in the “crossfire” resulting from that shoot ‘em up.

(As it turns out, the dead Iraqi policeman fired on the convoy when he perceived that the Blackwater security people were killing bystanders around him. I probably would have fired at them too if I were him.)

The incident smells an awful lot like Haditha to me. I just posted the other day a follow-up on the Haditha incident of nearly two years ago where a Marine patrol similarly claimed that as they lawfully defended themselves going after attacking insurgents that a multitude of civilians died collaterally. Some 15 non-combatants, including women and children, perished in that mêlée.

Hillhouse is of the opinion that the reason Blackwater used the apparent aggressive firepower that it did on that crowded Baghdad square is because “State” has developed a culture of zero acceptance for American Foreign Service casualties. I’m sure Blackwater is even doubly on guard to prevent capture.

So, The State Department’s security policy has been to protect -- at all costs -- all of their diplomats and Foreign Service Officers serving in Iraq, EVEN if it means Iraqi civilians have to die at the heavyhanded tactics of the mercenary security forces doing the "protecting." Blackwater evidently took this guiding principle to heart, and when their convoy became stalled in Baghdad traffic and they felt threatened, they basically reacted full force with stun grenades and massive assault weapons fire laid down almost like a final protective fire on anyone within range outside of their perimeter.

Security "professionals" don’t “spray rounds,” not unless they perceive themselves under some kind of overwhelming attack, and "professionals" don't panic. Of course all this leads to the obvious question: Exactly HOW "professional" ARE these Blackwater security people anyway?

Blackwater’s chief and founder, Erik Prince, claims that his people in Iraq ONLY do what they do under the direct supervision of the State Department’s security heads. Prince says that if State wants an aggressive style of security then that’s what Blackwater gives them. If he’s right, then the State Department is trying to blame the security firm for simply following orders.

From my own experiences with the State Department, both as an American citizen “customer” at several embassies in the world, as well as having worked for them operationally as a U.S. Embassy Marine Security Guard, I can comfortably say that by and large our diplomats and FSOs are arrogant, insensitive and many are even a bit dimwitted, and that’s putting it nicely.

In other words, knowing the mindset of our embassy and State Department people, I’m giving Blackwater a partial benefit-of-the-doubt on this one, although I’m having a hard time believing that these supposed “security professionals” can truly justify the massacre of those 17 innocent Iraqis.

The fact that the State Department let go without charge all these Blackwater “hired guns” tells me that these contract trigger-pullers were probably following policy and State doesn’t want that to come out in an investigation and trial.

As I said in my last entry, we can’t win this counter insurgency by wiping out everyone in sight whenever our people come under attack. The fact that many of Iraq’s tribal leaders are coming over to our side has more to do with their perception that U.S. military is the lesser of two evils, the other “worse evil” being the even more brutal members of Al Qaeda.

I think of it this way: If I were an Iraqi and had lost a family member in that Blackwater assault, or at Haditha, I would probably join the insurgents myself, just for the opportunity to kill an American. Revenge might not be all that sweet, but it’ll do until something better comes along.

General Petraeus understands this simple human visceral reaction for personal justice and has dictated that our people no longer destroy entire buildings full of non-combatants in order to kill insurgents hidden among them. Evidently however, the State Department doesn’t believe that any of the general's new COIN tactics applies to them, even though this approach is now helping to turn this war around.
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Haditha Revisited

I've been waiting for the proper time to write this follow up post on the Haditha Marines. I think now will do. These fellows are the half-dozen Leathernecks originally accused of criminality for not following the rules of engagement (ROEs) during a patrol that erupted into havoc and mayhem in Haditha, a town in Central Iraq. The two-year anniversary of that tragic event is fast upon us, and what's prompting me to write this continuation is that the last of the sacrificial Marine lambs are about to have all charges against them dropped.

On June 14 of last year, I wrote a scathing post against John Murtha, the congressman from Pennsylvania who insisted on accusing the “Haditha marines” of basically committing war crimes before an investigation was even completed. Its turning out that he apparently lied about getting a briefing from his Pentagon “insider” and instead it looks like he just bought the pap fed to him by the TIME magazine article that started this whole farce to begin with. The “insider” was found to be an officer who states that "the briefing" he provided to the congressman was a full week AFTER Murtha’s accusations. At this point, the congressman has little to no credibility and still he stands by his original assertions by not retracting them or apologizing for them EVEN AFTER he has been proven wrong. (Why do people vote for this guy?)

At first, I planned to make this post a kind of “I told you so,” but I changed my mind after doing more Internet surfing and reading up on the current status of the charges. I haven’t changed my mind that the marines were unfairly treated, but there are still at least 15 dead Haditha civilians, including women and children, and with them in mind I don’t feel like gloating.

Over the weekend, I watched several TV interviews with one of the lower ranking marines, Justin Sharratt, now an ex-marine who at the time of Haditha was an E3 lance corporal. He sat book-ended by his dad and his lawyer.

The gist of his defense is that he and the other marines followed the ROEs to the letter and so no one should have been brought up on charges. What really upset Justin’s dad were Congressman Murtha’s instant accusations of murder by the marines and the lack of an apology since, especially now that most of the charges were either reduced or dropped.

Going back to the beginning, it seems that the reason the whole incident even made the light of day was a TIME article claiming certain things. Namely, that after the marine patrol was hit by an IED, which killed one of their number, they became so enraged that it touched off a firestorm of death resulting in the killing of at least 15-19 Iraqi “neutrals,” another word for supposedly uninvolved civilians. Altogether, 24 Iraqis died, including the known insurgents.

During the interview that I saw, Sharratt says that after the IED, his patrol took fire from insurgents, and at least one attacker took cover and fired from inside a residence. By the standards of the ROEs at the time, the marines “cleared” that building and others. Legally, as trained, they did it by throwing in fragmentation grenades and then bursting inside, firing their weapons until the building was “cleared,” which is a euphemism for “people inside the building were no longer able to fire at them.”

Some of the other stuff that supposedly happened, where a marine purportedly shot men trying to surrender or that another marine urinated on a dead Iraqi, I take all that with a grain of salt. If that stuff happened, or was reported to have happened, the unit’s officers should have investigated. It turns out that one marine’s testimony resulted in these charges but then based on conflicting testimony from other marines and civilians the charges were found to be groundless by the military judge.

After my reading, its fairly clear to me that these guys didn’t go on some berserker rampage as claimed by Jack Murtha, but perhaps they did push the envelope concerning their proper following of the ROEs. I refuse to judge them however, because no one was firing at me, and I was not there. Still, we can’t beat Islamic terrorism by killing 15 civilians to get 9 terrorists. By doing so we play into their hands. They WANT us to kill innocents because they know TIME magazine and Reuters will then do their work for them.

It seems to me that one of the reasons things are finally turning around now in Iraq is because of the new leadership and mindset provided under General Petraeus. His newly implemented counter-insurgency (COIN) manual has changed fundamentally the way our troops react to incidents like the IED and subsequent marine response that happened at Haditha two years ago.
Now, from my understanding, our troops have been directed to react with more delicacy and discretion than perhaps was used at Haditha. Destroying a house full of neutrals and inadvertently killing them all in pursuit of a single insurgent or two is completely counterproductive in trying to win the support of locals. No matter how closely those marines followed the ROEs, if it resulted in the deaths of all those civilians then it was wrongheaded. Just the same, Haditha is by no stretch of the imagination a My Lai or a Wounded Knee. No way. No how.

I believe the reason the charges have been dropped against the Haditha marines one-by-one is that the ROEs WERE indeed followed. If there is any real culprit it WAS the ROEs in place at the time, as well as the leadership on the ground that allowed the no holds barred assault on that home. But, if that was the standard at the time, then no one should be faulted for that. Marines do what they do—they close with and destroy the enemy. Unfortunately, we are no longer in an “all out war.” COIN, to be successful, must be a mixture of combat tactics and discretion. We can’t just “kill ‘em all and let God sort ‘em out,” a phrase we used to jokingly use when I was still “in.” Well, it’s no joke.

It seems that the only charges still ongoing are against 1st Lt. Andrew A. Grayson, who is being charged with negligence, for allegedly not properly reporting the civilian deaths. From what I’ve read this charge is a case of second guessing, since at the time of the incident it was determined that everyone killed was either an insurgent or died either at the hands of the insurgents or collaterally, during the “legal” assault by the marines. I’m certain that Lt. Grayson will also be found blameless. All the evidence points to everything being done properly at the time, from the post IED response, all the way up to the after action reporting.

General Petraeus seems to have a handle on a more effective “new way” of fighting terrorists now being employed during the current so-called "surge." The general knows that we are fighting people who have no compunctions at all in using the death of innocents as part of their doctrine to draw hatred against US forces. The general is a smart man--he’s trying to get our people to think ahead of the curve on this enemy ploy. Because of this, the collateral deaths our people used to cause so often are not such a common thing anymore. At least I hope it isn’t. Even if it means we put ourselves at a higher risk, we cannot afford to kill 25 neutrals to put away a single bad guy, or even to get 25 bad guys. If a doctor killed his patients every time he excised a few basal cells he wouldn’t be in business for long. Of course a doctor doesn’t have the cancer cells firing AK47s at him either.

Two Pit Bulls and a Dane

Last year, when my daughter told me that she was pregnant I was ecstatic. Then, it occurred to me that she then owned an American Pit Bull Terrier, or APBT, or just plain pit bull, as they are commonly called. My first response to her, or perhaps request would be more accurate, was, “So, now you’re going to get rid of your pit bull, right?!”

My request, which seemed totally logical to me, did not draw the response that I had hoped for. Evidently, suggesting to my daughter that she decide between her pit bull and new baby was an untenable choice. In effect, I was asking her to choose between children, and although the human child is important, so also is the "animal child."

I had never met her pit bull named Patches, but she assured me that Patches was a sweet tempered dog that would never hurt anyone. Naturally, being an expectant grandpa, I was not convinced. I was miffed that she would even consider keeping such an animal with such a violent reputation with a small baby in the house.

I had heard all the horror stories where infants and small children had been left alone with a large dog, the beloved family pet, only to find the child horribly mangled and even killed, perhaps with the face completely bitten off. Physically and physiologically, that is completely possible. The human face, particularly a small one, is not installed all that tightly to its moorings. A large dog with its big jaws can easily strip the face off a small child.

One of my Air Force mates, a fellow master sergeant, had a young son whose face was in the multiyear process of surgical reconstruction. Her boy, at the time I knew him he was about 12, had wandered into a neighbor’s yard when he had been 5 or 6. Waiting in ambush for the little fellow was a ferocious canine “man-eater,” I believe it was a German shepherd or a Doberman.

Before someone could get in there and pull the crazed animal off the lad, half the boy's face had been mangled and one ear destroyed. A face so young with so much developing and growth ahead of it cannot simply be stitched back together to a normal appearance. Plastic surgeons have to bide their time and let the facial features mature close to adult size before the really important final touches can be made.

Of course that’s unfortunate because children can be cruel. They will go after one of their own deemed “different,” and with the boy’s obvious facial deformity he was quite “different.” I think it was my father that told me how a flock of chickens will become mean and destructive to one of their own, exactly like kids. If one develops a bald spot where feathers have fallen out for some reason, perhaps because of some benign skin disease, the other chickens will become compelled to pick at that spot, and do so until their victim has no feathers left. Bet you never thought chickens could be as cruel as kids, did you? Ed Abbey, you’re a chicken expert; can you corroborate, or is all that just a “modern chicken legend?”

So here’s the capper: not only did my daughter NOT get rid of Patches the pit bull, she got ANOTHER pit bull puppy, named Riddick, after the boxer. Now I was REALLY upset. I couldn’t imagine how she could be so irresponsible. And to make matters worse, a few months after my grandson was born they brought home a Great Dane puppy. WHAT! And what really drove me bonkers is when I asked her if they mostly kept all the animals in the yard and her nonchalant answer was, “No Dad, all three are house dogs.” Again, from me: “WHAT! Are you kidding?”

Well, since I had already vociferously made my reservations known, I decided to keep my mouth shut and hope that she and her husband knew best. Still, it didn’t stop me from worrying. I just kept imagining that tiny defenseless little bundle of pink humanity and all the horror stories and it gave me fits.

I was quite expectant last month, (and not in the pregnant way) when my daughter picked me up from the Killeen airport terminal. I was anxious to meet my new grandson and see how it was with him and all the big dogs in the house.

My daughter went in ahead of me through the garage and into the kitchen. Inside, she sternly ordered her furry crew to calm down. Hesitantly, I entered behind her, hearing the telltale sounds of 12 huge doggy-paws excitedly ticking on linoleum along with the energized panting dogs make when they are “happy to see you.” My first impression: Dang! These are three HUGE dogs!

They were indeed big animals. The Great Dane is technically still a puppy but already he towers over the two Pit Bulls and they aren’t exactly midgets. All three were curious about me. They inspected me in a friendly non-threatening way, doing lots of snuffling and bumping against my legs and reassuringly for me, with lots of heavy tail wagging. Once I realized they weren’t going to eat me, I just stood there and rubbed the tops of their constantly bobbing heads as they drew in my scent and memorized it. They seemed more like small affable jumpy ponies than dogs.

Then, my son-in-law brought out my grandson. Wow! I was even more impressed. My son-in-law is a 6-foot tall handsome devil and my grandson is a smiley good-looking chip off the old block, both from his daddy’s and mine. I couldn’t have been happier. 'Now, to see how it goes with those three canine monsters.' I had a hard time imagining how such a small human could possibly coexist safely in the same home with three such gigantic furred creatures.

At first, my fears were half-realized when the little guy—not quite a year, and still just pulling himself along by the furniture—was felled by the excited movements of Riddick, the teenage pit bull. The clumsy thing had backed up without looking and bumped the little guy into a full on header. I was immediately angry, with a “see, I told you so!” aimed at my daughter; but truthfully, during my five day stay, that was the only time I ever saw my grandson in anything that looked remotely threatening, except when he would get an occasional hard slap from an unmindful tail wag. I took a couple of those myself from the Dane, and it HURT.

I soon learned one thing—my grandson will never be bitten or mauled by any of the three dogs. And amazingly, he lacks all fear for any of them. He doesn't try to hurt them as babies sometimes do, and they look at him as a tiny version of one of the other larger human "masters." Actually, I was pleasantly shocked at the sweetness of them. They are so big and yet so starved for human contact and affection. If one of them comes over for a tummy rub, which is constantly if you let them, the other two look over in complete jealousy, and have to be told to stay away. Otherwise, you'll be mobbed by about 240 pounds of doggy love.

My daughter and her husband have done an excellent job of establishing who is in charge and the order of exactly "who is boss." Its a bit like the military chain of command. Its crucial, as dogs MUST know who is number 1, who is Alpha, and all the humans in the home MUST be that. Even the baby has "rank" over the biggest dog and EVERYONE knows it. Patches is the doggy matriarch and she understands that she is prime among the dogs, followed by Riddick, and at the end of the hierarchy is the big Dane puppy. With animals that large, its important that they know and understand this. I’ve got to give her credit, my girl is on top of the psychology required to handle these animals. Without these “rules,” you end up with anarchy and probably with dogs that have to be put to sleep at the shelter.

I did a little reading on pit bulls and I learned a few things that put my mind at ease concerning my grandson. First, these animals have been bred to NOT be aggressive toward humans. And although they have been bred to fight other dogs they will not necessarily be aggressive against other dogs if they are not trained for it. In fact, my daughter tells me that Riddick, despite his huge size is a bit of a coward when it comes to conflict with other dogs. Once, during a walk, when a much smaller dog made a charge, Riddick whined and hid behind his mistress. Imagining it, I had to laugh at the big softy.

Remember, pit bulls are the breed that Michael Vick made infamous with his cruelty toward his own dozens of fighting pit bulls. Also, the gangster rap community uses these animals as status symbols and representative of their aggressive “culture.” I read that many cities in the US and in other parts of the world, such as the UK, have actually made illegal the ownership and breeding of these misunderstood animals. I find this to be very unfortunate and unfair, especially since learning more about these loving animals and after actually experiencing how sweet-natured they truly are.

Again, remember I wrote earlier of my friend’s boy who had been mauled? Well, it wasn't by a pit bull. If any animal is likely NOT to maul a human it’s the pit bull; its just not in their genetics. Other animals like German shepherds are much more likely to attack people, yet these dogs are not generally banned. Sometimes legislators make laws based more on gut reaction than on reality.

I’m certainly a believer now. My mind has been changed. Every time I sat down one of the pits would immediately come to me for some affection and then would lie down on the floor and purposely act like a canine ottoman. These animals, with their huge heads, broad chests, and giant jaws, are more interested in being close to people out of apparent love than to bite and fight.

If you want an aggressive guard dog get a German shepherd. You’re wasting your money going for the pit bull, which is more likely to lick than bite you. Seeing the four of them together, I'm absolutely certain that my grandson will be just fine with his three buddies.