Carl's "Piggy Party"

August birthdays are HOT, so they have to be celebrated in a cool way. For Carl's birthday (his 4th?) we went to Ford Park to eat watermelon -decorated with marshmallows to look like a pig-- his "piggy party".

It was going to be a happy day. Kelly Ellis from next door, and Flynn and Brett Mauthe, also neighbors, were going to come with us to the park.

As we readied the "pig"- sticking the marshmallow "nose, ears, eyes and tail" on with toothpicks, a strange truck pulled into the driveway. Two men emerged and one asked Mommy, "Do you have a dog?"

Mommy said later, that if she had been thinking, she would have brought out Alice (our chihuahua), but she honestly said, "Yes" and we brought Gerda out.

I guess we all knew why they were there, Gerda had bitten Jeff Whitfield.

Anyone who knew Jeff, knew that no one deserved more to be bitten! He was our local juvenile delinquent. He had, as one of Mommy's Cub Scout den members, taken our tricycle out into the channel and left it, so that we had to wade in to retrieve it. He later (years after the biting incident) stole Herman's bike (a very expensive 10 or 12-speed) from our carport. He was an all-around "bad-egg".

Of course, the sight of the dog-catcher's truck attracted neighborhood curiosity, so in the small crowd that had gathered, Mrs. Mauthe loudly remarked, "What a rotten thing to do to a little boy on his birthday!" as the handlers marched a confused and humiliated Gerda to their truck and locked her in the cage.

We all watched helplessly, with Gerda looking at us pleadingly for help, as they drove away.

Poor Gerda. She had only done what her instinct (and apparent good judgement of character) had told her to do - bite Jeff. Now, she had to serve 10 days incarceration for "observation" to make sure she didn't have rabies - despite the fact that her immunizations were up to date.

With Carl's digging companion (he would say "Dig, dig, Gerda" and she would dig until he got her to stop - Grandpa Pretzer would then go around the yard with a shovel, filling in the holes and saying, "Damn dog.") headed to the "big house", it was hard to feel very much like partying, but we had to do it for Carly.

We did end up having a nice party. Carl was happy despite all that had transpired, and Gerda was none the worse for her stay in dog-prison, but it was one of those days that will live on in infamy - "Remember the Alamo"... "Remember Pearl Harbor"... Remember the Piggy Party!