Dogs can shoot you… and start fires

Opinion

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 18/02/2016 (3516 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

As regular readers are painfully aware, I frequently write columns wherein I describe the atrociously bad behaviour of my two dogs.

After bemoaning some of their destructive canine antics, I will typically include the following sentiment: “Well, at least they’ve never shot anyone!”

At which point I will share a recent news story detailing the completely true story of a dog — the last one was aptly named Trigger — who has accidentally shot its owner in a sensitive area, such as northern Indiana, after stepping on the trigger of a hunting rifle.

The journalistic concept I am trying to convey in these columns is that arguably the worst thing a faithful dog can do is shoot its owner in a medically sensitive area.

But it turns out I have been wrong. Today, I am going to share a horrifying true story pulled from the real-life adventures of a member of my own family, by which I mean my son, Liam. Our story, which I am definitely not making up, began last week when my son was studying on the campus of the University of Manitoba when he received an unexpected call on his cellphone.

“Hello,” a calm voice on the other end of the line said. “This is the fire marshal. I’m standing in your kitchen. It looks as if your dog tried to burn your house down.”

For those of you who do not currently own dogs, I should point out criminal activities such as arson are not considered acceptable canine behaviour. For instance, if you grew up watching the TV show Lassie, you will know there weren’t any episodes wherein Lassie intentionally pushed Timmy down a well, or tried to crush Grandpa by overturning a piece of farm machinery.

As you can imagine, Liam was distraught when he received the call. “I was terrified,” he told me later. “The first thing I asked was, ‘How’s the dog?’”

 By way of background, I should mention that a few months ago, my son and his girlfriend bought their first house, an extremely cute and historic home made largely from wood, which apparently is quite flammable.

After buying the house, they decided to adopt a rescue dog, a year-old collie-shepherd cross they named Finn in honour of one of the characters in the latest Star Wars movie.

 When Liam arrived home, he discovered four firefighters playing with Finn, whom I would describe as a rambunctious, friendly dog with a brain the size of a raisinette.

 What appears to have happened is Finn, who has a remarkable gift for escaping from his kennel, made his way into the kitchen and, while trying to pull a pot down from on top of the stove, managed to turn the stove on with one of his gangly paws. “The controls are on the front of the stove, and anyone could turn it on, even a dog or a child,” my son pointed out in hindsight.

  Which is when some plastic items on top of the stove caught fire, which created billowing smoke, which activated the fire alarm in the kitchen, which (whew!) alerted my son’s next-door neighbour, Rod, who fortunately happened to be at home.

 So Rod called the fire department, and a crew raced to the scene, broke a window on the front door to get in, then quickly extinguished the blaze on top of the stove before finding Finn cowering in the living room behind a sofa.

 Having doused the stove, the heroic firefighters fed my son’s dog “because he looked hungry. Then they took him outside and played with him with his ball. They were just hanging out with him when I got home.”

 What with being a chip off the old dog-loving block, Liam was quick to defend the reputation of his new canine companion, who will be more securely confined in future. “He’s a good boy,” my son stressed.

“It could have been any dog. I guess Finn is an anarchist. He was trying to burn down the establishment.”

Other than a few moments of sheer panic, everything ended pretty well. Finn is learning about fire safety, there was almost no damage to speak of, and my son thanked his neighbour, Rod, with a bear hug and a bottle of wine.

Normally I’d reserve the last word for myself, but my son desperately wanted to send this message out to the neighbourhood fire crew: “Thanks! I’m so grateful they came and stopped my house from burning down and played with my dog. I’ve always respected firefighters, and I’m so grateful they live just up the street.

“I’m really glad I’ve got good neighbours as well. I mean, what are the odds a dog is going to turn on the stove? Everyone should child-proof their stove. And dog-proof it as well.”

doug.speirs@freepress.mb.ca