The adventures of a Florida boy (part 15)
In the 1960s, kids ran as far and wild as their imaginations would take them
ONE OF AN OCCASIONAL SERIES: My boyhood was spent in Florida in the 1960s on an island called Coquina Key. My parents’ waterfront home overlooked a large expanse of Tampa Bay. Back then, parts of the island were undeveloped, which left plenty of room for climbing trees, digging forts in the sand, and swimming in shark-infested waters (though we didn’t give the latter much thought).
This is part 15 of a random and mostly lighthearted series that I might eventually combine into a memoir. I’m telling these stories to the best of my recollection and changing names and physical descriptions just because it seems like the right thing to do.
The Dogs of Coquina Key (episode 2)
My last segment of The Dogs of Coquina Key focused on my dogs and also my friend’s dog. This segment tells the tale of the two unquestioned titans of our neighborhood.
Across the street from where I lived, two enormous dogs lived in adjacent houses. One was a Doberman Pinscher named Lodi who weighed more than 100 pounds. The other was a German Shepherd mix named King who was 110-plus. Needless to say, the behemoths did not like each other.
When I was 12, I did some babysitting for Lodi’s owners who had two kids about 4-5 years old. I remember the kids as being well-behaved, so I didn’t mind babysitting them. But Lodi was another story. He followed me around the house, keeping a close eye on everything I did. Even if I went to the bathroom, I had to shut the door quickly just to have some privacy. I wasn’t about to relieve my bladder with those jaws just a few inches away from you know what. And when I sat on their couch and watched TV with the kids, he loomed in front of me and stared with an expression that said: Should I kill this stranger or let him live? I can’t make up my mind.
It would be an understatement to say that this made me a little nervous. But I somehow survived with all my parts intact.
In my last segment, I wrote about my friend’s dog, a tough little mutt with upside-down fangs who coincidentally was also named King. One day when a bunch of us were playing in the street, King (the mutt, not the German Shepherd) trotted up, saw Lodi, and challenged him to a fight. King the mutt imagined himself as a tough guy, but it quickly became clear that he was out of his league. Lodi didn’t hurt King in any appreciable way, but he disabled him as efficiently as a highly trained martial artist, biting King by the scruff of his neck with his powerful jaws. King realized he had made a big mistake and howled pathetically. And though he weighed only 25 pounds, King still managed to drag Lodi several hundred feet down the road.
My friends and I chased after the dogs and hollered like madmen. King eventually wrestled free and headed for the hills, while Lodi simply trotted confidently back to his own home.
The German Shepherd version of King was not such a pushover. You might find this difficult to believe, but I saw him get run over by a fair-sized pickup truck and jump up none the worse for wear. His ribcage must have been made of steel. I rushed over to King, expecting to find him in distress.. But King simply wagged his tale and trotted off. His owners didn’t even have to take him to the vet. Meanwhile, the driver of the truck zoomed off. We never found out who did it.
On a breezy evening in late spring, the legendary Fight of the Century took place right in front of my house. King was running around with us kids when Lodi somehow got outside. The two dogs immediately went nose to nose and growled menacingly. At first it looked like it might end in a standoff, but then both dogs tore into each other and got into an epic battle. It was like watching King Kong versus Godzilla. It was so scary, none of us dared approach.
Lodi’s dad heard the ruckus and ran out his front door. Then he amazed us by leaping onto King’s back in an attempt to separate the snarling canines. But no matter what he did, the dogs continued to fight, and he was finally thrown to the ground like a rag doll.
One of my friends banged on the door where King lived, and his owner finally came out. He then unwound his garden hose and proceeded to spray the dogs. This separated them enough to be able to drag each one inside their respective houses.
The fight was over. There was no clear winner. But even better, there was no clear loser.
Eventually, both families moved away and I never heard anything more about Lodi and King.
But after that, the axis of power shifted, and the mutt-sized version of King took over as lord of the neighborhood.
The adventures of a Florida boy — past episodes
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14
Books 1 and 2 of my teen fantasy adventure Dark Circles are now available on discount for 99 cents. They are appropriate for readers 13 and older, but adults are enjoying them as much as young teens.
Book 1 (May 2023) is titled Do You Believe in Magic?
Book 2 (October 2023) is titled Do You Believe in Monsters?
Book 3 (coming February 2024) will be titled Do You Believe in Miracles?
Hi Jim. Thanks for the comment! Yes those were the days when it came to dogs. The only good news was we were all so used to it, it was mostly no big deal.
This is what dog fights are about- territorial disputes and the separating of leaders from followers.