Mason's new toy and James' best shot

Shortly after James and I started dating he got into the house-flipping business. After having several of the houses broken into, as well as my own, James decided he needed an alarm system. After my house was broken into the police told me the best thing to do would be to get a dog. So we rescued Mason together.

A boy and his rescue.

Mason was a very special kind of dog, which I won't go into too much detail about just yet. He just recently passed, and we realize now how much we miss him, even his giant stinky doberman ass sleeping in between us in the bed every night. Mason had been abused since birth until he was rescued at age 2-3. He had scars around his neck from being chained up to a tree most of his life. He was terrified of thunderstorms, strangers, and electrical cords. We were not allowed to rearrange the furniture because he would refuse to enter the room if it looked different. He would act like he was standing on slick ice if he walked into a room with hardwood floors that were too shiny. For the first year that we had him, he would stand in the corner facing the wall. He wouldn't make eye contact until year two. But by year three he was sleeping in the bed with us, stealing food off the counter tops, jumping right into my car for trips to the pet store to pick up a new bone, and so on. It took a while, but eventually he turned into a somewhat normal dog.

Mason, guarding his yard.

As a doberman he was very intimidating. Once he realized that James' home was his forever home he protected it with everything he had. He loved his yard and he loved to keep strangers away from it.  He was very friendly, in his own way, to anyone we invited into the house, but if someone he didn't know reached their arms anywhere near his fence, they better hope their fingers could be sewn back on.

One day James received a call from his sister, from their house. James had just left the house for work when she called and she was frantic. Mason had caught something and blood was everywhere. James turned right around and drove straight home to figure out what the problem was and make sure Mason was ok.

When he got back home he saw it: the giant doberman dragging a huge groundhog around by the neck. Blood covered both of them as they bit and scratched at each other. Obviously the groundhog had walked through the wrong yard. James couldn't tell who was bleeding worse. He could tell mason had snapped the groundhog's back, but the groundhog was still fighting. He needed to get the groundhog out of Mason's mouth without being injured, himself. The groundhog was obviously in a bad position and was not going to make it through this fight.

James snapped into action. Without thinking (obviously... the next few things you read are undoubtedly illegal), he ran to the back room and grabbed his bow and an arrow. James threw open the sliding glass door of the kitchen and took aim. The noise of the door startled both animals just enough to freeze them for a few seconds and *thwack*! James took his shot.

From inside the house, through the kitchen sliding glass doors, across the yard, James shot the groundhog out of the dog's mouth, simultaneously putting the groundhog out of his misery and away from our dog. Mason approached the groundhog, and, without getting a response, had lost interest. James ran out to inspect the damage and found Mason with scratches all over his face. He immediately called the veterinarian.

We were told to bring Mason in, as well as the head of the groundhog for Rabies testing. Overall, he had a few new scars, but thankfully, no rabies. That groundhog had picked the wrong yard to walk through.