Updated: Nov 11, 2019
It was a Halloween Night.
The dogs and the band were playing hard when I sat down.
My feet were in the sand at a bar restaurant
where four dogs went full bore around the tables
and four musicians did the same on the stage.
There were 2 street dogs and a couple of pit bull terriers with collars.
An old bitch was Alpha,
and like all great leaders,
had no fear or doubts about how things were going to go.
The other pit bull was a playful male and still a pup.
Pit bull play, like Changa Pachanga, is something to see.
At every moment and at any angle
there was hard muscle and sharp edges,
130 pounds of enthusiasm cannon-balled through the place
with enough force to topple a big man or absolutely clobber a small child.
The guitarists didn’t seem to mind. They did their thing.
This was my first dogs-at-play in a bar and it seemed dodgey.
I've been in bars where big people start
to push people around
and all you wanna do is get out of the way.
I seen a guy, 6'5" 265,
open his arms and drive 15 people down a long hallway through a very small opening.
Pit bulls, like bouncers, like singers and artists, leave a backwash of colateral damage when they get going.
You gotta be mindful around them.
Or you end up a victim.
They use momentum to drive muscle or emotions
until they hit something more solid, like
the floor or a wall
(and maybe a car, or a dumpster).
Their momentum is best absorbed by water or a person being like water
(see Lao Tzu).
The sand was flying as the dogs rolled hard or dug in to get traction.
The lights blazed white
and the barking dogs reminded me of
”Sure Shot“ by the Beastie Boys.
Just so out of place, lending a sense of the surreal.
A respite; a suspension of belief.
Joy Taylor had already belted out a couple of songs
and I’d moved closer to the doggy mosh pit to stage right,
where I got a good look at the group.
Between songs the guitarists didn’t say nothin’.
Like the dogs, there was no doubt who was Alpha in the group.
Taylor bangs back a shot and
barks a bit of harsh criticism in the direction of the drummer,
something to the effect that he was a real duechebag for a variety of reasons.
He makes like water and doesn't even deny it.
Threats are made and the supposed shite state of affairs on stage is attributed
to his lack of basic decision making skills.