That’s not quite true. She was a good dog that was a stray or lost, that was thrown in a ring with fighting dogs to arouse their viciousness. Purely a victim of something heinous perpetrated for the sake of backstreet gambling. She was not a fighting dog. She was nearly torn apart, left for dead, spent over a year in a shelter (basically a wire cage). We live in Washington, she came from Houston, and we got her through an animal rescue group. You look in her eyes and you can tell she’s suffered, and yet she’s as sweet and gentle as any human or animal I’ve ever known.
And that, to me, is miraculous. If there’s a heaven, and it doesn’t have dogs, in my estimation, it’s not heaven.
Wow wow wow. Stunning. Big fucker is a dog and a fantastic metaphor for bullies in general, and for life. We’re all taunted by some version of Big Fucker, externally and/or internally. I think my Big Fucker was alcoholism. Bastard kept trying to kill me, kill my inner Pierre. I love your openness, honestly and vulnerability; one of your strongest traits as a writer. Most of us have had experiences where we feel violent rage. Maybe it’s more of a male thing. But it happens.
That poor St Bernard, abandoned, discarded, no doubt abused in the past, finds some solace, a place to stay, but still starving, acting on nothing but instinct and every cumulative neglect, he kills a much loved dog, he's immediately contrite, he evidently knows right from wrong better than many humans. The St Bernard's end, shot and tossed into a rubbish dump, as brutal and cruel as his life had been.
Incredible and incredibly heart-rending story. You capture so much in these super short essays, stories and poems. Thank you for enriching my life, 5 minutes at a time, Sherman.
I was able to feel the power in this story; the power of the dog, the power of the love and devotion, the power of fighting, the power of grief, and the power of anger. Incredible!! Thank you, again, for sharing your gift with us.
I have no idea how to adequately respond to this piece. It starts out like an entertaining tall tale and and then enters the realm of myth, with Big Fucker reminding me very much of the savage dog, Lion, in Faulkner's The Bear. But whereas Lion ends up heroic in his attempt to take take down the equally mythic bear, Old Ben, we feel little sympathy for how Big Fucker dies. And what you do at the end of the piece with that one phrase, "grim joy," captures how that to live as an authentic human being, one must continuously and willingly embrace opposite emotions--a very difficult but necessary task. This one's a classic.
I've been lucky enough to only be in one fight. A kid on the playground made fun of me for not having a dad (he'd died a few moths earlier), and it was on. I think he realized it was a mistake before he'd even finished the sentence. We both realized our actions were bad before the teachers had a chance to pull us apart. If nothing else, it was a good lesson in tempering one's reactions.
Very well written Sherman. I don't have a lot to say that hasn't been said already. But the one memory of childhood and dogs I remember most was the one where a drunk was standing in front of a car window that was partially open, taunting a German Shepherd that was going ballistic just trying to get at him. And he did. The guy leaned it, the dog turned its head to the side and got its head out of the window at the same time, and bit the tip of his nose off. It's amazing the things you bring with you, isn't it?
Good essay Sherman. Reminds me that no matter how much we control out environment, when we are pushed to our extremes (be it hunger, fear, etc.), we go to our vary base instincts...be it man or beast.
Dogs are man's best friend. And many more things as well! What I like about this story is how much we see of the latter. It's familiar, because our eons-long relationship with dogs has given us that insight. But Big Fucker adds an element that defies what we think we know about our "best friend."
Oh man, this one hit me hard. As a kid, I had anger management issues. I've long since worked them out and/or outgrew them, but always in the back of my neck is that fear that I'm one remark or action away from being ostracized by everyone I love. That moment when Big Fucker cringes because he knows he's ruined everything... That broke me.
Thanks, Michael. We share a similar sensibility, so your response is appreciated.
That’s not quite true. She was a good dog that was a stray or lost, that was thrown in a ring with fighting dogs to arouse their viciousness. Purely a victim of something heinous perpetrated for the sake of backstreet gambling. She was not a fighting dog. She was nearly torn apart, left for dead, spent over a year in a shelter (basically a wire cage). We live in Washington, she came from Houston, and we got her through an animal rescue group. You look in her eyes and you can tell she’s suffered, and yet she’s as sweet and gentle as any human or animal I’ve ever known.
And that, to me, is miraculous. If there’s a heaven, and it doesn’t have dogs, in my estimation, it’s not heaven.
Thanks.
Wow wow wow. Stunning. Big fucker is a dog and a fantastic metaphor for bullies in general, and for life. We’re all taunted by some version of Big Fucker, externally and/or internally. I think my Big Fucker was alcoholism. Bastard kept trying to kill me, kill my inner Pierre. I love your openness, honestly and vulnerability; one of your strongest traits as a writer. Most of us have had experiences where we feel violent rage. Maybe it’s more of a male thing. But it happens.
Recently wrote about harm thoughts: https://michaelmohr.substack.com/p/obsessive-compulsive-disorder
That poor St Bernard, abandoned, discarded, no doubt abused in the past, finds some solace, a place to stay, but still starving, acting on nothing but instinct and every cumulative neglect, he kills a much loved dog, he's immediately contrite, he evidently knows right from wrong better than many humans. The St Bernard's end, shot and tossed into a rubbish dump, as brutal and cruel as his life had been.
How great is it that you can read Sherman Alexie for free on Substack?
Yes, you can! Thanks!
Incredible and incredibly heart-rending story. You capture so much in these super short essays, stories and poems. Thank you for enriching my life, 5 minutes at a time, Sherman.
Sherman’s stuff is 👌👌👌
Andrei, thank you so much for reading in the archive here!
Yeah! I’m having a great time discovering your stuff.
I was able to feel the power in this story; the power of the dog, the power of the love and devotion, the power of fighting, the power of grief, and the power of anger. Incredible!! Thank you, again, for sharing your gift with us.
❤️❤️👌
Thank you.
I have no idea how to adequately respond to this piece. It starts out like an entertaining tall tale and and then enters the realm of myth, with Big Fucker reminding me very much of the savage dog, Lion, in Faulkner's The Bear. But whereas Lion ends up heroic in his attempt to take take down the equally mythic bear, Old Ben, we feel little sympathy for how Big Fucker dies. And what you do at the end of the piece with that one phrase, "grim joy," captures how that to live as an authentic human being, one must continuously and willingly embrace opposite emotions--a very difficult but necessary task. This one's a classic.
Beautifully stated, Peter
Thank you, Peter. And thanks for reminding me of Lion and Old Ben.
I've been lucky enough to only be in one fight. A kid on the playground made fun of me for not having a dad (he'd died a few moths earlier), and it was on. I think he realized it was a mistake before he'd even finished the sentence. We both realized our actions were bad before the teachers had a chance to pull us apart. If nothing else, it was a good lesson in tempering one's reactions.
You were 100% justified.
I loved this!
Thank you, Dan.
Fascinating, Sherman--no wonder Georgia loved it at once & even risked sending it to her/our 13-year-old grandson despite Big Fucker's moniker!
Thank you, Ron. Yeah, the essay is PG13!
Very well written Sherman. I don't have a lot to say that hasn't been said already. But the one memory of childhood and dogs I remember most was the one where a drunk was standing in front of a car window that was partially open, taunting a German Shepherd that was going ballistic just trying to get at him. And he did. The guy leaned it, the dog turned its head to the side and got its head out of the window at the same time, and bit the tip of his nose off. It's amazing the things you bring with you, isn't it?
Holy smokes
Holy crap!!! That's like Texas Angry Dog Massacre!
Good essay Sherman. Reminds me that no matter how much we control out environment, when we are pushed to our extremes (be it hunger, fear, etc.), we go to our vary base instincts...be it man or beast.
Yep 👍
Thank you, Mary Kay.
Dogs are man's best friend. And many more things as well! What I like about this story is how much we see of the latter. It's familiar, because our eons-long relationship with dogs has given us that insight. But Big Fucker adds an element that defies what we think we know about our "best friend."
Great point, Felix. "Domesticated" doesn't mean "predictable."
Oh man, this one hit me hard. As a kid, I had anger management issues. I've long since worked them out and/or outgrew them, but always in the back of my neck is that fear that I'm one remark or action away from being ostracized by everyone I love. That moment when Big Fucker cringes because he knows he's ruined everything... That broke me.
You’re not alone with that feeling 😎
Your empathy with Big Fucker is a good thing.
It occurred to me this morning that this essay is the Cain and Abel story, told from God's perspective
Whoa! I'll ponder that!
Without instincts we humans would have disappeared ages ago. Instincts run amuck will very possibly
destroy us. We have a 8lb Chihuahua-Rat Terrier rescue, dangerous only to training treats.
I have been on a couple of jury's that have taught me I am not capable on my own of judging others.
As always, thank you Sherman.
Thank you, Steve. We have an old dog who barely even barks. A gentle soul, she is.