I know my boys wouldn't have played no games. Together or separate, my two heathen monsters are game. Hell, young Jack's favorite thing is wrasslin with a 100lb Rottweiler.
To be fair, unless they were together, my boys wouldn't get off as easy as that schnauzer. They wouldn't run, and they'd fight their hearts out, possibly literally. It'd be a bloodbath. Game dogs are a double edge sword.
This may be hard to fathom, as much as I adore my boys, but situations like the one in the video are why I own my dogs. Jack shadows my daughter on every trip to the outhouse (yeah, we're that far off the grid). His soul purpose in life is to be between my daughter and what goes bump in the night.
Ranger is my fur missile, he's not a public, go-meeting-folk-at-the-park kinda dog. He's a "These people are mine, this is my home. No touchy. I Bite" kinda good boy. As good as he is around the kids, he's always supervised. He's never given me a reason to worry, infact his every behavior says the opposite, but a dog that large and powerful demands certian precautions.
The boys have already accounted for a few coyotes. This is a wonderful thing, as my daughter has a deep fear of the yodel-dogs, singing in the night. After seeing first mangled carcass, she sings to the boys as we wash the blood off of them. There's actually a little song starting to form, it's happened enough.
"OH, my monsters keep me safe!
Oh, my monsters, look at what you ate!
Oh, boys what did you do?
Oh my boys thankyou thank you!"
It's cute and maybe a little dark, but my daughter doesn't cry when she hears the coyotes anymore. She's looking forward to hanging out outside at night this summer.
