By Kenneth L. Hardin

I’ve written on social media how I love my dog so much that if he asked to borrow my car, I would happily throw him the keys. While I said it with a certain amount of facetiousness, I’ve grown to appreciate my 11-year-old mixed breed canine more than I do most  humans I know. I can’t count the number of times people have disappointed me, but my four-legged companion has never once let me down.

I would never do anything to harm an animal. I don’t understand people who find joy in hurting something that only wants to show you their love and loyalty. I’ve contacted PETA in the past and reported individuals for abuse and neglect. I strongly believe in protecting anyone or anything that can’t do so for themselves, even at the risk of my own safety. Several years ago, while traveling on Highway 70 near Hurley Middle School, I witnessed a man purposely target a stray dog running across the busy road. He ran over the helpless animal and kept going. Fortunately, the tires missed the dog, and he tumbled several times as the car rolled over him but survived. Seeing that he was OK, I stepped hard down on the gas pedal and chased after the car. I copied down his license plate number and followed him for several miles. When we both arrived at a mutual stopping point, I exited my vehicle and directed angry profane words at him that I can’t repeat in this publication. As I headed back down the highway, I called the police and reported the incident. I’m concerned more about man’s inhumanity against man over that of an animal, but I refuse to sit idly by and watch an innocent creature be abused.

Whenever I see a video of an idiot approaching a wild animal to take a picture or assert dominance, I always root for the animal to win. I’ve lost track of the number of videos I’ve enjoyed watching when animals attack dummies invading their space. It angers me when wild animals are euthanized because of someone else’s arrogance and stupidity. The comedic prophet Chris Rock captured my position perfectly when he summed up his feelings about the tiger that snacked on Las Vegas illusionist Roy Horn of Siegfried & Roy in 2003, “That tiger didn’t go crazy, that tiger went tiger.” Rock explained how irritated the tiger must’ve been after being forced to ride tricycles and perform tricks.

I’ve had my current best friend Bandit now for over a decade. I have no idea where he came from. One morning, as a puppy, he showed up on my front porch before the sun came out to play, and then hung around all day. Mr. Sun was unmercifully hot that day, so I put him in a cage, gave him a bowl of water and allowed him to take a long nap. During his nap, I called the no-kill and regular shelters. The first was full and advised me to keep him for 72 hours and then call back. The latter said they would accept him but would probably have to euthanize him if he wasn’t adopted. That wasn’t an option for me. After the 72-hour window, I called the no-kill shelter back and they said they were still full, so I decided to just keep him. It’s been a wonderful 10 years.

I truly believe there was divine intervention at play with Bandit showing up that morning. A few months prior, we had lost our sweet schnauzer of 16 years, Sharky, and the entire house was numb. That wonderful dog belonged to the neighborhood on the West End. The seniors who lived there loved her and she was well fed. She was fiercely protective of my young sons and extended it to everyone who lived on our street. When a rottweiler chased my oldest son from the school bus stop, she leapt off the porch, grabbed onto the massive dog’s neck and clamped down. The big dog was so surprised, he took off running down the street.

In her final hours of life, Sharky was unable to walk, so we made her comfortable on a blanket in the den. My middle son was home from school and sitting in his room on the computer. When he looked up, there she was staring lovingly at him. She had pulled herself down the long hallway and into his room using her two front legs where she died in his arms as he cradled her.

Bandit has been just as loyal, When I fell seriously ill several years ago, he laid beside me for days softly licking my arms. I had humans who didn’t even pick up the phone to call, so yes, he gets the car keys and gas money.

Kenneth L. (Kenny) Hardin  is a member of the National Association of Black Journalists.