by Rose Marie Zurkan
"You better get rid of that mutt. Next time I find him on my property, I'll shoot him, and that's a promise!" He leaned closer and poked his finger into Sam's chest. Palooka growled and took a step forward. Sam's neighbor moved back a step.
Mary and Sam adopted Palooka from the local shelter. The shelter attendant had been unable to tell them what breed he was—something big, but they could tell that for themselves--great dane or mastiff. Palooka was too big for their small house and postage stamp yard, but he wagged his tail so hard and looked so hopeful that they adopted him anyway.
Sam put up a fence. Palooka jumped over it. Sam put up a higher fence. Palooka jumped over that one too. He was so big, when he got out he scared the neighbors. They complained.
The first complaint came from an elderly lady who lived down the street. She claimed that Palooka nearly ran her down as she walked home from the market. She had been carrying bags and dropped them when she saw Palooka coming. A bottle of juice had broken.
"You know he wouldn't hurt you, don't you, Mrs. Gash?" Mary asked.
"I know that's what you say. Maybe he wouldn't hurt me intentionally, but he's just so big. Dog like that belongs on a farm."
Sam ran right out and got her another bottle of juice to replace the one Palooka had broken. He put up an even higher fence. "You think he's bored?" Mary asked.
They started taking Palooka for long walks in the country.
Palooka couldn't jump over this fence so he knocked it down. He took off after a blue Mazda, catching up to it at the light. He scared the driver, who decided not to wait for the light to change but barreled on through it. Mary, chasing after Palooka, saw Jim O'Brien, a 14 year old, doing wheelies on the sidewalk and thought, oh, no. Palooka saw him too and veered off course. Mary closed her eyes. When she opened them, Jimmy was picking himself up off the sidewalk and fending off Palooka's kisses. "Are you okay?"
"I guess so," Jimmy said. "Yeah, I'm okay."
"I'm so sorry," Mary said.
"It's okay, only my bike…" His voice trailed off. He picked up the bike, but one of the wheels was crooked, and it wouldn't roll.
"Sam will fix it," Mary said.
"I can do it."
Jimmy's father came over later on "You got to do something about that dog. He's a menace." He pointed a finger. Palooka, hearing the voices, ran over. He jumped up and tried to kiss Jimmy's father. "Get him off me."
"He's harmless," Sam said.
"I don't care how harmless he is. He doesn't belong in a neighborhood with people. I don't know where he belongs. In a zoo maybe."
Mary and Sam enrolled Palooka in obedience school. "He's a high energy dog," the trainer said.
"We know," they said.
Sam put the fence back up. He knew it would not keep Palooka in, but he hoped that the neighbors would see it and give him points for trying while they tried to figure out what else they could do.
The next time Palooka escaped was after Mary and Sam left him home while they went to a neighbor's house for a party. Because it was a warm evening, they left Palooka on the screened porch. Palooka tore through the screen, knocked down the fence and followed their scent to the party house. The first they knew what he had done was seeing him bound into the yard. He jumped on Mary and knocked her down, and she fell against the loaded picnic table. As she fell, she grabbed the plastic tablecloth, covered with dishes, and pulled everything to the ground.
"Are you hurt?" Sam asked.
"No," she said.
"When are you going to get rid of that dog?" someone asked.
They slunk home, Palooka in tow, securely tied with a rope borrowed from their host. The next day, they brought him back to the animal shelter. "I want to cry," Mary said.
"Someone will adopt him. He belongs on a farm. That's what everybody says."
"But what if no one does?"
"Someone will. Listen, we'll visit him every day."
Palooka thought the trip to the shelter was great fun, but when the attendant locked him in one of the cages, and Sam and Mary walked away, he howled.
"He do that a lot?" the attendant asked.
"No," Mary said. "He never even barks."
"Well, if he keeps on like that, nobody is going to want him."
"It's just, he's not used to being caged." Mary's voice broke. Sam put his arm around her.
When they pulled into their driveway, Mary stayed in the car. "I never realized how small our yard is."
"What are you saying, Mary?"
She said nothing. Sam said nothing. They left the car and entered the empty house.
"He's some watchdog," Mary said. "You have to admit that. Nobody would dare to break in while he's around."
"I know."
"So?" she prompted.
"Let's see what happens."
The next day they returned to the shelter, and the next day and the day after that. Palooka acted overjoyed to see them. So did the shelter worker.
"You better forget about anybody adopting him. He's too big. No offense," the man said, "but dog like that's going to wind up being euthanized."
"I thought you were a no kill shelter."
"No shelter is ever completely no kill. Eventually, if an animal isn't adopted, they have to be euthanized. It's not fair to them to make them live in a cage, and we can use the room for dogs that will be adopted."
When Sam and Mary left the shelter, they took Palooka with them. They called a real estate agent and put their house on the market. They found a house in the country and moved in.
They didn't put up a fence. They didn't need one.
