Mark Guttrider & Dixie “The Dog of Death”
When I was about 10 years old, we had a kid named Mark Guttrider who lived around the corner.
Now Mark wasn’t the biggest kid on the block or the toughest.
But Mark had that Great Equalizer. His Dog Dixie.
It’s safe to say this pooch was the mangiest mutt you’d ever laid eyes on. And mean as a Mongoose on speed. If you ever found yourself riding your bike to the convenience store. you had to pass Guttrider’s house. or else take the long way around the block. As you’d pass his house, if he was outside shooting baskets or cleaning out his garage and he saw you first. You’d hear the words that sent chills up your spine. I’ll never forget them…
“SICK EM DIXIE!”
This mutt would be after us on our bikes like a rocket shot out of a cannon. most of the time we’d get a jump start knowing what was around the corner. But there were occasions when we’d forget. The next thing you knew you had a Snarling Canine Terror biting your ankles as you rode by. This dog had no fear. Woe be the kid Guttrider had it in for. Which sadly, was me. I got the scars on my leg to prove it.
It all ended for us one day, as we rode by Guttrider’s house. We saw him in the driveway crying. apparently Dixie took off that afternoon after a car. and ended up getting flattened by the tires. Dixie was no more. I know we should have been happy about it. but we weren’t.
Kids need a little adventure, something to talk about on the bus going to school.
One Thing we did know at 10 years of age was that if there was a Doggie Heaven…well? Dixie sure as Hell isn’t there. She’s down in Dog Hell chasing those poor old souls riding their bikes down dead end streets. Dishing out Canine Justice Down in The Fires of Hell.
Sometimes, the best childhood memories are those adventures that grow over time. today the house still stands where Guttrider use to sick his Deranged Pooch on us. But we’ve all grown up and moved on.
To this day, Whenever and Wherever I see someone walking their Dog, I’ll roll down the window of my car and Yell, “Bad Dog! Bad Bad Dog!” and then I’ll smile.