written by John Kelly

Mad dog was a term that struck fear in most of us kids growing up on the mill village. It was the name most of us used to describe a dog suffering from hydrophobia or more commonly, "Rabies!" Anytime we were approached by an aggressive dog, someone would usually mention "mad dog". Just shows how much it was on our minds back in those days, and when Old Yeller came to the local matinee, that certainly didn't help the paranoia. Now this fear was probably passed on to us by our parents and some older siblings and that's very understandable because of a terrible event that hit the county back in 1944. And no, I'm not referring to the war.

     In 1944 our town experienced a Rabies epidemic that affected a lot of families. Most of the men were away fighting World War 11 and so the grandparents and mothers were left to deal with it. My older brother Bruce was 4 years old at the time and he told me of laying in bed at night so fearful of the sounds of the snarling dogs fighting with the rabid ones.  Most peoples dogs just ran loose at the time and that's probably why it spread so quickly. It became so bad that the local authorities had to take drastic measures to bring  the crisis under control and end it for the sake of public safety. My brother remembers vividly when the local police came up and down the neighborhood shooting every dog in sight. He remembers seeing my uncle Roland's dog being killed. My good friend Bobby Wiggins also told me of his dog meeting the same fate as did many other innocent dogs. I guess this desperate action was necessary because it did end the crisis. My brother told me how quiet everything was the nights following the carnage - there were just no dogs left to bark.

     Now when I hear dogs barking at night around the neighborhood I always think of this event and take a moment to wonder about all those beloved pets.

     Back in the days of my childhood every kid had a dog - I mean it was just the norm to have a dog. Everybody knew all the dogs by name. You associated every dog as if it was a member of the family where he lived. They also ran free up and down the neighborhood. They were never pure breeds but mostly crossed up from breeding with other family dogs, usually given to you as a puppy and raised. No one bought a dog in those days. Even the ones used in hunting ran free until hunting season rolled around. Then between mid-October and February 14 they were pinned up so as to keep them from becoming complacent. But for their Saturday hunts the only activity these dogs got was when an occasional unwary stray cat sneaked into their pen some night foraging for a few morsels from their scrap tray. I can well remember the midnight commotion coming from the dog lot when  one of those coonhounds would wake up - then "THE CHURCH WAS OUT !"

     With five angry coonhounds chasing that cat round and round so fast he never had the time to stop and find that tiny hole in the wire he came in thru. Usually the next morning all you would find was a tail and little fur here and there. But as I said, I still can recall every dog and every kid that owned him.

     Boober Bullard had a chow named Chief, Denny (Pride) Johnson had a brawny bulldog/chow mix named Bummer, Boyd Braddock had a small Eskimo Spitz named Herman, Ray Lynch had a collie/sheperd mix named Jack. I could go on and on but will not for the sake of boring the readers. Some of these dogs were so endeared that they have become almost legendary and still talked about over a half century later. My Dad is 93 years old and still speaks fondly of his dog Jack. Jack was a cross of bulldog and greyhound. They say the old timers that used to hang out down at McIntoshs' store used to hold Jack until Dad got all the way to the end of Short Street (dad was 8 yrs old). Then they would release him just to watch the incredible speed he would display running to catch up with Dad. They also told that when hunting he could actually run a rabbit down if it ever tried to cross an open field. Now Jack was known by one other name to a few neighbors, namely the one's with chicken coups - "EGG HOUND!"

     Chicken eaters were never tolerated and I recall once Harold Thompson's dog Lobo came under suspicion of the crime. Richard Clark complained to Harold about Lobo chasing his chickens. Harold emphatically denied the charge. This story ended up being a "dry well" because Lobo disappeared before the crime could be substantiated.

     One of the most humorous events I recall with dogs happened one day when my cousin Mike and I were going rabbit hunting up in Norman. Mike had bragged about those beagles all the way to Norman and when we arrived, he instructed all of us hunters to go down about 100 yards because, in his words, "When I open this trunk, these dogs are gonna pile outta here like gangbusters and leave ya'll in the dust!" Well, we followed his instructions and watched cautiously as Mike opened the trunk and jumped back out of the path so as not to be run over by these "fireballs of canine terror!"  But all we heard was dead silence! I mean not a sound. So after a few minutes we returned to the car and peered into the trunk. What we saw was a half dozen beagles laying in there panting like they where dieing. What Mike didn't know was that he had left a can of antifreeze in the trunk and it had tuned over. The dogs had been inhaling antifreeze all the way from Rockingham to Norman. When we picked the dogs up they were so limp that they draped over our forearms like fur covered slinkys. We laid them all out on the ground in a neat little row like victims from a train wreck. After about an hour they began to come around, but they still had a big problem. We don't know why but their front legs  would not function. By nature they still had the enthusiasm to hunt but they could only scoot around with their heads plowing up leaves while their hind legs pushed them forward.  They looked like sedated miniature KANGAROOS!

     I have to say I have had a few bad experiences with dogs since an early age. One day when I was at the tender age of 4 years I was introduced to Wild Gene Jordan's bull dog "Ole Scratch." Now just that name speaks volumes. The first thing he did was jump up at my face and knocked me down. Then, when I was 9 I got hit by a car and knocked into a ditch up at the top of Hamer Hill. When they finally got me out of the ditch and put me in the car, my dog Rex jumped into the car and started growling and ran everyone else out. They liked to have never got him out so they could get in and drive me to the hospital.

     Then, when I was 11, while visiting my childhood sweetheart Bonnie Oliver, no sooner than I arrived than her dog "Tip" bit me. Now the funniest incident by far I ever witnessed was the Gibson's dog "Blacky ." The Gibsons didn't have much in the area of entertainment. But they did have a tough dog. And they enjoyed capitalizing on Blacky's talents as a fighter, mainly by siccing Blacky on every poor mongrel that happened to stroll by their house. I mean, they never passed up an opportunity to put Blacky in action. The entire clan always came out to watch him tear some poor dog to shreds. But even this good time finally came crashing down. That day came when they sicced Blacky on Willard Groom's dog "SPORT." Unfortunately the Gibson's nor Blacky had ever seen a Pit Bull Dog! And it didn't take them long to realize they had made a mistake! And Blacky realized the mistake even sooner! In a matter of seconds the mission changed from entertainment to just trying to rescue Blacky from the crushing Jaws of Death! I mean the entire Gibson generation was out there in the middle of Bunker street hitting, kicking, yelling and screaming but it was all drowned out by Blacky's howling. And I have to tell you when they finally pried Blacky loose, he ran up under the house and didn't come out for three days.

     I tell you it never ceases to amaze me how fanatical some people are over a dog. When I think about my brothers' wilder days - Chicken fighting, liquor making, gun fighting, cop harassing and lord knows what else -  than to see him sitting there in his recliner all hugged up to his dog "CUDDLES." I just stare in amazement and ask myself, what is this world coming to.

     I still like to hear dogs bark late at night, even if it wakes me up. I often think about my Uncle I. B. and that dog lot he had out back. Every now and then the neighbors would be awakened when his dogs would start howling at a cat that crossed the yard. I can still hear that loud voice yelling at them out the back door. "SHEEEEEEEEDDDDDUUUUUPP AN GIT BACK N AT BOX!"

     I know I have already mentioned the names of a few dogs, but I must mention some of the more creative names some folks came up with. Now everybody has heard the common ones like Pal, Spot, Rover, etc. Now a days people think its cool to name them names like "Bailey." I don't know where that one came from but everybody seems to think its cool. NOT!  Well they had some sophisticated names around my block as well.
How about "Hoover" That's what Tom Talley named his dog. Hoover had been hit by so many cars that he could just barely drag around, and Tom was still bitter about struggling thru the Great Depression. How about "Mortification?" Now, that's one for the ages that Mish Mitchum came up with for his dog. Then there was Bill Wallace's twin toy poodles "Billy Jack and Feebe Ann."

     Now after hearing about all these beloved pets and personal affection that these good humble people felt for them I want you to imagine if you can the trauma and heart ache these poor folks must have felt when one day in 1944 police officers stormed into the neighborhood shooting every dog in sight without prejudice. They even came into the peoples yards and shot them down - even the ones that were tied in the back yard. It had to be rough on the mill village children. For two painful weeks in 1944 this is what happened.

     Now having said this I have to say our town was fortunate that someone in authority had the intestinal fortitude to do this as it did in fact bring the rabies epidemic to an end. And you have to commend the people in the community back then to have the common sense to know it was for the better good. Today I can all but guarantee that folks would not just stand by without a lot of negative reactions. I often wonder how it was after the purge was over. With no dogs left, the night silence must have been hauntingly deafening!