Back when we were kids Mad Max had a dog named Harley. She was a beautiful tan bitch Rottweiler. He gave her carte blanche in Greenwood County. She would run all around town without a care in the world. Town folk would yell, chase, pet, feed, placate. It was a bygone era.
He stops by the house and asks, "Have you seen Harley?"
"Haven't seen her buddy. Did you check down by the park? She was there earlier."
"I did. She wasn't there."
"I'll help you look for her good buddy," it's a summer afternoon in the 1980's and life is good.
We jump in his truck and begin to cruise the streets of Madison in search of her, checking the usual haunts with no luck. As he u-turns on Main a voice yells, "The dog catcher took Harley to the pound."
"When did we get a dog catcher in this town Jack? You have got to be shitting me."
"I'm not joking," he yells while standing on the corner of Main & 3rd, "The city council hired a lady out of Eureka. The pound is just north of town. It's where Joe's oil use to be. They converted the garage to a kennel."
We knew the place Jack was talking about & made our way there in short order.
Pulling into the gravel driveway of the newly anointed dog pound of Madison, he says, "If they know what is good for them they better give me Harley back without any problems."
"Relax dude, let me do the talking. We'll have her out of here in no time at all."
We follow the sound of barking dogs to the back of the structure and there was Harley, along with four other dogs, staring at us through a padlocked cage, "Don't worry girl we are going to have you out of here real soon. Go find whoever it is and tell them I am here to get her."
The pen was twenty yards, give or take, from the office. I walk around to the front and try an open the door. It was locked. I pound on the door for a few moments and no one answers. I go back to Mad Max and tell him no one is around.
"Fuck this shit. I'm not waiting on anyone. I'm taking Harley home with me right now."
"How are we going to get her out of the pen without a key?"
"I got it covered boy. I'll be back in a minute," he walks to his truck and returns with a three foot ax, "Get the fuck back Harley! I'm going to get you out of here," all of the dogs retreat to the back of the kennel.
Without further adieu he strikes the wood the lock is attached to. The cover plate half way dislodges. A few more violent strikes and it is lying on the ground.
"Let's get the fuck out of here Harley," yelling as he swings the door open.
I'll never forget the moment - Harley sprints to his truck and without breaking stride jumps directly in the bed. Her four accomplices all scattered in different directions as well. It was a doggy jailbreak.
As the two of us are leaving a mini white Nissan truck pulls in "What in the world are you guys doing?" It was the new dog catcher. Neither one of us recognized her.
"I am just getting my dog lady," Mad Max replies
"You are not suppose to be taking the dog. How did you get into the pen?"
"I chopped the lock off."
"You better not have," anger in her tone.
"I did! What the fuck are you going to do about it?"
The new dog catcher is taken aback by his foul language, "You can't just come in here and take the dog. It is a nuisance and there is a fine you have to pay."
"I'm not paying you a fucking dime," the pitch of his tone growing ever more angry, "The dog has been running around town for years with no problem and you think you're going to take that away from her. I don't know what the city council told you, but I'm telling you right now if you ever put her in here again I will burn this place to the ground."
"You can't talk like that to me. What is your name? Who is your father?"
He answered and added, "Look lady, we live in the bunker three miles north of town. If you want to go explain it to him. Be my guest."
The lady is a stranger to both of us, but after mentioning his fathers' name and the bunker three miles north of town the conversation ceases and we go on our merry way.
I never heard another word about a dog catcher in Madison after that day. My guess is the 'powers to be' realized a dog pound is not worth the aggravation of dealing with Mad Max; or others like him.
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