The neighbors had learned about Weeker the hard way but the stranger that wandered into his path just regretted it. The dog would bite trees, fence posts, car tires and the legs of the broken down table. But most of all he loved to bite people. The sound of their squealing sent him into fits of tail wagging ecstasy. The blessed dog was damaged in some way and could not be put back together again.
He was brown and white with a flat face and slanted eyes. Anna never let him free in the house with the children. She locked him up when they went outdoors. You could not trust Weeker…ever! He loved to sleep under the wood burning stove and Donny could see no wrong in what he did. The fox will not get in the hen house when Weeker is around, he liked to say. Anna always wondered how the fox found them out there in the middle of nowhere. Still Weeker worked hard at his job and she had to appreciate that.
Buzzard and Edith were not affect by Weeker in anyway. He would come to their house to check out the pig and anything that had fallen out of the trough. He seem to sense that Buzzard probably would not squeal if he could actually get his mouth around his leg and bite him. Weeker and Buzzard had come to an agreement. Buzzard wouldn’t shoot him for food and Weeker wouldn’t bite them. It was a good arrangement.
Oona and her husband would come to visit occasionally out of duty. Anna ran to find Weeker as soon as she saw them coming down the road in the Model T. The only good thing about that very old car was that it made a lot of noise. Her father said one car paid for was better than a dozen on the lot. Anna, on the other hand, worried that those tiny tires could actually be punchered by Weeker’s bite. They had been patched too many time already. And the last thing she wanted was to hear her mother squeal.
Where Weeker came from was somewhat of a mystery. Donny arrive home with him after a trip to the tavern. Weeker was still a tiny pup. He already had a chain around his neck and a long sturdy lease. Donny claimed he had won Weeker in a raffle. Anna suspected that he was the booby prize or even some kind of punishment for an as yet unnamed deed. Weeker made you think those thoughts.
They could hear the barking in the distance followed by a squeal of pain and then ouch!
They saw Weeker running for the house, his tail wagging and they swore there was a smile on face.
Weeker, you come home now! )^(*^%$&*(**! Weeker you get over here now!
The man at the gate held very still as Anna retrieved the ecstatic wiggling dog. He was a brush and mop salesman and business was very bad these days. Getting bitten by a dog was a small price to pay for a sale. Anna was always good for at least one sale when a man with a mop came to call. Donny had never been home when they came so he didn’t know where Anna got her brooms or mops.
Anna welcomed the gentleman in…Hello Mr. Wolf she might as well have said. How many mops would she have to buy before she had to tell all the salesmen not to come back?
Weeker had been tied up under the stove. Run outside and play now, she told the children. Do we have to? was their reply. The cat lay in the middle of the floor eyeing the salesman suspiciously. They were teasing it with a string. Anna straighten her collar and pushed her hair behind her ears. The salesman broke into a sweat and smiled a wilely smile.. He had a wife and 5 children at home waiting on him. He really needed to sell a mop.
And so it went.