The Norton Clan decided to camp at Point Ryes. They picked a campground next to the ocean. I went to visit a couple two sites from our campsite. Upon my return after an hour of being away, I saw my two girls were gone, Brianne, 8 years of age, and Rachel, 6 years of age. Also, their cousin, 10 years of age, was gone. I yelled where are the girls! I collected Shultzie and told her to find the girls. The three girls had cut through many campsites on their way to the ocean as Shultzie’s tracking of their path indicated. Once Shultzie reached the ocean, she turned North. We found the girls playing up against a rock outcropping at the water’s edge almost half a mile away from the campsite. What had distressed me was the area was posted for sneaker waves. Adults had been swept out and drowned years before. Upon our return, I raked the eight adults over the coals.

The playground equipment was being vandalized in the greenbelt park area. We homeowners had to pay the cost to repair the equipment. I decided to go on nightly patrols to catch the vandals. After just three nights, I found them. I saw from a hundred yards away, four young adult males with one female. I put Shultzie on lay and stay about 50 yards away in the dark. I then walked back to the sidewalk under the park light and approached the playground. One swing had been wrapped around the support pole and they were in the progress of doing that to the other swings. I expressed my displeasure and told them to stop their vandalism. Then they, the males started talking tough to me. They said they could just beat me up and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it. I said that would be a mistake on their part because I’m not alone. I then yelled, “gibloud!” Shultzie barked with excitement at the prospect of doing some bite work. Not surprising, the young men adopted an urbane disposition upon hearing my Guardian’s pleas to shred their flesh. I told them to leave and if I saw them vandalizing again there would be no warning.

During the recession in the late 90s, I had to find work in Oakland, California. Vehicles around my truck were having their windows smashed at the airport for the items in the vehicles. I reasoned Shultzie could as well sleep in my truck, F-150, as at home. One night I volunteered to go get food for our weekly BBQ at the local Safeway. As I was walking back to my truck with both arms carrying the BBQ supplies, I saw three men on an intercept course with me. They were holding screwdrivers in their hands. I changed my course three times and they adjusted according to intercept me. I then yelled, “comen!” Shultzie leaped from the truck and ran toward me and bumped the center man as she passed them. They ran off in fright. Shultzie had two personalities. During the daylight hours, she was easy to manage. But at night, she became a wolf in her demeanor. I never had a bad bite with Shultzie, however, every close call of a bad bite occurred at night.

I referred to Shultzie as my bigoted lesbian. Shultzie had the habit of ramming her nose into the crotches of women. Every time I was so embarrassed at her antics of crotch nose thrusting. Try as I may, I was never able to break her of that behavior. The man across the street was a Black gentleman. Shultzie adored him. However, Shultzie displayed unwarranted aggressive behavior toward every other Black male if given the chance. Black women were safe along with all of the other women. Shultzie adored children and women. 

I had bought an F-350 and put a camper on it. The truck had a sliding glass window through which Shultzie could jump through to the camper and visa vera. I will say it was so nice to have a refrigerator and a private toilet when away from home. I had gone to Home Depot for items for the house. As I was returning to the truck, a huge man who was Black approached me wanting money. Though I am six feet four inches tall and was at 190 pounds, I would have stood no chance in a fight with him. He told me if I didn’t give him all of my money, he would “fuck me up.” I showed him I wasn’t carrying a wallet. I told him my wallet was in my truck. He followed me to my truck. I opened the camper’s door and with no prompting from me, Shultzie attacked the man. I was so proud! He tried in vain to run away. I let her work him over for a while. I then called her off and he fled. I then called the Sheriff’s Department and gave a description of the man. I wasn’t contacted back as to whether he was found. That man had committed a felony in his attempt to rob me.

I trained Shultzie to turn around when I was at ATMs. I was a bit of a dick whenever I left ATMs after doing what I needed to do. Shultzie was trained to stay put whenever she was ordered to sit. So, when I departed from the ATM, I wouldn’t recall her until I had walked twenty feet away from her and the ATM. And I never ever had a person encroach upon my space while at the ATM. Shultzie behaved way better when I wasn’t holding her leash. Only when I was holding her leash did she act like a terrorist sometimes. I never had her threatened a person off-leash, but there were times where she threatened to shred a person while I was holding her leash. I consulted a trainer about this behavior. She told me this was common amongst bodyguard dogs. She said the dogs are saying, “If my master wasn’t holding me back, I would shred you.” It is a power trip for them, she explained.

Bottle brush bush incident: It was early in the morning as I waited for the newspaper to arrive. I was eating my breakfast when all of a sudden Shultzie went ballistic. She wanted out the front door while using her deep alarm bark. I attached the leash to her collar and opened the door. Shulztie pulled me to the bottle brush bush we had to the side of our front window where the fence met the house. The fence was set back about four feet from the front of the house which made a good hiding place for my girls. Shultzie wanted me to let her go, but I was hesitant to grant her request. I didn’t know what was hiding behind the bush. Shultzie became even more frantic to go and shred what was within the hiding spot. I thought to myself it was a mistake to not have my revolver. Then a voice came, “I’ll come out.” A man emerged from the hiding place. I told Shultzie, “oust”. He explained he had to take a piss and saw our bush. After I told him to leave, I went behind the bottle brush bush. I found the man had dropped a slim jim, used to defeat locks on vehicles, which is a felony possession if the person does not have a license for possession. I called the Sheriff’s Department for a visit. I gave the slim jim to the deputy with the man’s description. 

Attempted burglary incident: I arrived home from work to find Shultzie laying in our front yard with the gate open. I told Shultzie to go into the backyard. She just laid there unwilling to move. I saw Mitchell was home across the street. Mitchell was the one Black man that Shultzie liked. Mitchell had helped me with training Shultzie to not leave the property unless given permission by me or the girls. I asked Mitchell if he had heard or seen anything going on at our house. He said no to both. I then returned to Shultzie and saw there was blood seeping from both her front and rear paw pads. Here’s what happened: As a practice, I left the side garage door open to the backyard, as well as, the house door to the garage. Thus, giving Shultzie roaming access to the house and backyard. Someone had entered our backyard with the intent to steal items in our garage. The open side garage door is visible from the street. They couldn’t believe their luck upon seeing the open door to the house. Evidently, Shulttzie was upstairs on my bed when the person entered the house. I saw her launch disruption on my bedspread. It was too late for the intruder.

It appeared as though Shultzie did get her pound of flesh from the shirt scraps I found in the front yard. The would-be burglar having nowhere to go climbed atop of our fence. Our house sat on the biggest lot which was a corner lot. We had a huge fence line. I saw the South fence had on both side jump scratch claw marks from Shultzie. On the street side, the nail heads had worked their way from the slats. Every time Shultzie jumped to pull the burglar down, the nail heads cut her pads. It was like a cheese grader had been taken to her pads. According to the clawing on the fence, the burglar made it to our neighbor’s backyard. I opened the front door and carried Shultzie into the house and cared for her pad wounds. I fretted for days. It was remarkable how fast her pads healed. And of course, I spent hours fixing the fence. I removed the nails and drove in screws in their place.