The Day The Mad Dog Came

Story ID:	681
Written by:	Gail Lee Martin
Organization:	Kansas Authors Club
Story type:	Period Piece
Location:	Woodward County Oklahoma USA
Year:	1905
Person:	my mother, Ruth Vining

It was a searing, hot August morning in 1905 when five year old Ruth Vining was playing in the barren red dirt that surrounded her family's home. The dwelling was a one room shack fronting a dugout in the Cherokee strip of Oklahoma. Ruth was watching the family's flock of chickens chasing grasshoppers near by. Soon one large red hen wandered over and allowed Ruth to pick it up, smoothing the glossy red feathers while she talked to it as if to another child. The chicken even came running whenever Ruth called.

The chicken and the little girl had been friends ever since the chickens hatched several months ago. Ruth named the baby chicken "Little Red," because it was a different color than the rest. Ruth had found being the youngest of thirteen children had its drawbacks as there were none her age to play with. So she played with Little Red.

Suddenly Ruth heard the sound of a running horse that soon appeared over the rise from the east. She dropped Little Red as she recognized the rider as her cousin, Carl Babcock, their nearest neighbor. As soon as Carl saw Ruth he started yelling. "MAD DOG! MAD DOG! MAD DOG!"

Ruth started to run up the two wooden steps to the house, but quickly changed her mind, turning back she scooped up Little Red, tucking her under her arm. By that time her mother and three sisters were rushing out the door, their long skirts and white aprons flapping in the hot wind. Carl reined his horse to a sliding stop, his words stumbling all over each other as he excitedly tried to talk. Finally catching his breath he gasped. "Maw told me to come tell you about this dog that's acting odd. He's foaming all around his mouth and headed this way. I rode way out around him."

He looked around the yard area and before any one could interrupt he added, "Where's your men folks?"

Ruth's mother, Nancy, hurriedly said "They all went with Ike a few days ago to gather salt. even the boys went with him." Carl knew it would take several days just to go over at the Big Salt Plains on Buffalo Creek west of Freedom where everybody gathered salt. Nancy went on to explain to Carl. "We don't expect them back till next week."

“And Albert's out gathering chips," Ruth chimed in, feeling important that she knew something to tell.

Nancy took charge, as she had always had since her husband had died when Ruth was only six weeks old, by issuing a quick command to Carl. “Carl, you ride over and tell the Brocks. Maybe they can send someone to help us."

As the boy reined his sweating horse around and rode off, she turned to the girls. "Scelia you are the tallest so climb up on top of the corral gate and shout when you see the dog." Turning to the little girl, Nancy tried desperately to suppress her panic and speak calmly, softly said to Ruth. "Shoo those chickens into their pen and scatter some grain for them. Hurry, honey, and be sure to fasten the gate securely."

Ruth ran into the chicken pen with the little red hen still under her arm. Grabbing a bucket of feed she threw it around by chubby handfuls, then set her hen down to eat. Little Red began eating the unexpected meal and clucking noisily with contentment. The other chickens heard Little Red's excitement and scurried into the pen so they wouldn't miss out on this unforeseen treat. As the last one entered the pen, Ruth banged the gate shut and slipped the wire loop over the gate post.

Meanwhile, with the help of Bessie and May, Nancy was trying to hurry their only milk cow and her calf into a shed. Their dog, Tag-a-long, refused to go in with the stock. Tag-a-long had a litter of puppies under the steps and she wasn't about to leave them. The rest of the family's dogs had gone with the men except Old Ring, who was with Albert. Finally the women managed to get the excited cow and calf into the shed. Firmly latching the shed door they hurried to the house calling for Scelia to join them. Scelia jumped down and dashed after them, her long red hair flying like a flag of danger. The young women scooped up the puppies into their full aprons as they ran inside. The mother dog anxiously followed and Nancy Jane slammed the door shut.

Inside they all crowded at the only window in the tarpaper and board shack, straining to see the Mad Dog. No sign of it yet. They were all worried about eleven year old Albert, who had no way of knowing of the danger. Bessie went to get a drink and noticed the water bucket was almost empty. She didn't know how long they might have to stay inside. Grabbing the bucket, she told her mother, "I'm going after some water." Then she bravely ran outside to the well by the side of the dugout. Scelia grabbed another bucket and followed her out of the house. Bessie poured a little water down the throat of the pump to prime it as Scelia vigorously pumped the long handle up and down . Presently the precious water began gushing into the bucket. When the pail became full, Bessie replaced it with the other bucket. Soon it was over-flowing too. The excited girls rushed back to the house slopping water as they ran.

Albert came trudging up from the south with a gunny sack of cow chips over his shoulder. Holding the sack's neck with both hands the youth was watching his footing as he walked through the rocks and cactus and didn't see his sisters until they called for him to hurry. Sensing something unusual from their manner, he dropped the sack and lengthened his stride. Entering his home he heard his mother's voice demanding, "Albert bring Ring in the house." Although surprised Albert quickly obeyed just as the Mad Dog walked into sight.

Anyone would know something was wrong with the dog just by looks alone. He walked stiff-legged and in a straight line. As he came into the yard, Ruth could see his mouth was covered with slobbery looking foam. The sick animal probably could smell the people. With his last bit of instinct he hoped they could help him get rid of the burning pain that was consuming him ever since he had tangled with a crazed coyote a few days earlier.

Back and forth in front of the house the dog paced, just out of range of the shotgun, the only weapon the women had. All the rifles and pistols were carried by the men on their trip. Slowly the day wore on and the hot sun moved overhead. The cow and calf began to low mournfully as they became hot and thirsty in the enclosed shed. The imprisoned family wondered if they could hold out until the dreadful disease ran its course and the poor dog died.

Ruth knelt at the low window watching the poor sick doggy as he paced past the opening now and then pausing to paw at his agonizing throat and mouth. She could see he gained no relief and she wanted to take him some water. Her mother told the anxious little girl, "Honey, that dog has a disease called rabies and if he bites anything, it will die just like the dog is going to die sooner or later. Every animal or person even you, or your little red hen would be infected with rabies if bit by that pitiful creature. Let us pray he will die soon and out of his misery, before anything else is infected."

The sun slowly sank below the horizon, leaving a golden glow. The crazed dog staggered slowly to the south again. Suddenly a rifle shot rang out and the startled family sprang to the door but were afraid to open it. Then Carl on horseback flashed into view with a wide grin on his face. He was the hero of the day! Behind him the men from the Brock homestead rode into sight. Old man Brock was holding the rifle he used to put the mad thing out of its misery. The danger to the homestead was over.

The Day The Mad Dog Came is historical fiction. Written from family oral and written history.