1970s Teenage Human Shield

Jogging, my father and I run into Cujo

In the 1970s, there were no leash laws.

It started innocently enough, my father and I out for a jog, a couple times around the block on a cold November night in 1975.

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a gigantic dog started to run towards us, barking madly, with the velocity of a runaway train. My father did what any loving parent would have done: He placed me between himself and Cujo, like a human shield. The dog was so surprised by this dereliction of parental duty that he stopped, shook his head in stunned disbelief, and turned away.

It made the rest of the decade a little awkward between me and Dad.

Over the years, Dad has offered various explanations for his behavior. I’ve always liked this one: it broke his heart to do it, but as the primary breadwinner, he had to think of the rest of the family. He also claimed biblical precedence, citing Abraham’s sacrifice of Isaac. But as I pointed out, Dad was not under orders from God, unless he was hearing voices again.

In his defense, this was not Dad’s first run-in with the beast. He had been menaced by the hellhound several times before. I think Dad believed that the animal had a specific animus towards him alone, and acted accordingly. And he was right. The dog didn’t attack me.

Still, I mentioned to Dad that on “Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom,” Marlon Perkins always pointed out the mommy or daddy animals’ fierce instinct to protect its young. Hang on…come to think of it…it’s always the mother animal doing the fighting. In nature, the dads’ role in raising the young is pretty much non-existent. And believe me, my mother would have sent that dog packing. So from a biological standpoint, I was running with the wrong parent.

Now that I have my own 16-year-old boy, I understand my father’s actions better, and my son is way better behaved than I ever was. Knowing what Dad was putting up with, it’s only surprising that he didn’t wrap me in bacon and knock me over the head with a stick as the dog approached.

So Dad, all is forgiven. I’ll go running with you anytime.

As long as Mom comes along with us.