“I’m going to kill you and your dog”

I’m sitting here physically exhausted. Just drained. I was sitting with Gilbert in the car pulled to the curb crying.  I feel so alone, afraid, old, vulnerable and unprotected.

This afternoon I was walking Gilbert , my old blind cockapoo with damaged back, in the DTES.  The sun was out. I’d just had lunch.  Children were playing in the park. I was returning to the clinic where patients would be waiting. Sometimes people wait months to see someone like me. The health care system is broken, mismanagement and poor leadership.  Like all the fewer and fewer front line clinicians I feel like the proverbial little Dutch boy with his thumb in the hole in the damn.  Any day the flood is going to happen.  Maybe it has and people are just being distracted by climate change projections about a dubious future anywhere from decades to hundreds of years away.. Right now the threat is here. The threat is now. The threat is real.  People are dying daily in the DTES. 

Today there were three ambulances on my way to work on Hastings. The half hour commute has become an hour to two hours each way. This day a fire truck blockaded half the main thoroughfare, at another traffic jam it was just one ambulance, lights flashing, and at the next several police cars and an ambulance. There ‘d been shooting the night before here. Three incidents, some one killed and others targeted.  I confess I was a bit anxious about going to work.  

I’m pretty tough. I’ve been shot at, knived, faced down countless guns, fought my way out of several street flights younger. I’ve been falsely accused by psychopaths too, a couple of times. Last year I refused to see an addict who threatened to kill me and my dog. He threatened to kill the lawyer’s dog, his boss’s dog and eventually after a year of texts still threatening to kill me , despite the police being involved it only stopped when he threatened to kill Justin Trudeau. The College of Physicians and Surgeons implied I provoked him by refusing to see him.  It was the old politically  correct arrogance.  An administrator with comparatively  no clinical experience think grandiosely if they’d ‘handled’ the situation, the guy wouldn’t be upset. The politically correct position is  ISIS murderers, pedophiles, rapists just need a little counselling and they’re be good neighbours. I’ve worked with psychopaths and sociopaths and lost that illusion with experience.  I’ve surged 40 years of the toughest assignments. 

The pit bull ran at us the full length of the block , no leash, no master, just a full out charge.  It came straight at me.  Ears back.  Like a land shark. I positioned myself with Gilbert directly behind me.  He knew there was danger. The dog lunged in the air at me and I took his charge right on my thigh I’d positioned to take the charge. He bounced off. He circled real quick trying to go between my legs at Gilbert.  A pit bull or bull terrier can kill a small dog with one bite and shake. I knew a biker with a pit bull who bragged about his dog killing little dogs with one bite and one shake.

I have a woman in my practice. She was passing some street people going into the store. They man and woman were sitting with the pit bull. The pit bull lunged at her grabbing her arm.  She’s in her late 60’s. The crushing bite has permanently disabled her. She has a ‘claw hand’, constant pain and can’t pronate or supinate the forearm.  It’s quite disturbing visually.  The street people and their dog disappeared. No consequences. There was no victim’s compensation. I saw her for the night terrors and despair. She’s been so depressed and tired. It’s a year now and she’s living on a pension, permanently disabled, can hardly pay rent and can’t afford much beyond bare essentials. Vancouver is an expensive city. Canada doesn’t treat its old well. 

The dog was circling trying to get past me . I was blocking him with my legs. What I presumed was his master came charging down the street screaming at me. I’m partially deaf. I didn’t hear what he was saying.I was shouting ‘Get your dog on a leash. It’s against the law to not have your dog on a leash.”

Suddenly I’ve now got this young bully right in my face standing full in front of me , the dog still circling behind me, watching for a change to get at Gilbert,  two bully assailants.

 He’s screaming, “Did you kick my dog? If you kicked my dog I’m kill you.”

“Your dog attacked me and now you’re threatening me.”  I said with shock and disdain.

“My dog didn’t attack you.”

“Yes it did”. It was still there off leash looking for an opening to get at my dog

“I”m going to kill you and your dog.” He said. 

He was standing arms up, odd position. I was not moving, staring him straight in the eyes, defensive mode, I hate to think how many times I’ve been in this position.  So many bullies attacking us as kids. The biker knifing me when I was 16.  The gang with the chains and knives threatening us northern Ontario.  The guys swinging billy clubs at me. Getting shot at. Guys with knifes, guys with guns.  I escaped the muggers in Athens only a couple of years back. I could run fast then. First lesson of self defence. Run!  But my knee hurts today.

 I ‘m wary. The kids’ a punk. I’m steady ,ready. He has his arms up chest high away from his body. I just watched his eyes but figured later that this stance was supposed to attract my eyes. He had one arm out and the other cocked for a punch. I saw it with my peripheral vision. Didn’t fall for it. He seemed a little perplexed. The look that goes with guys who figured they had an easy target. Probably attacked other old guys before. Predator, only picks easy prey, normally hides in a gang.  

He also seemed to not mean to say “I’m going to kill you and your dog.”  He seemed to register that he’d ‘technically threatened me’, whereas his first statement ,”if you kicked my dog I’m going to kill you “ that was said with confidence. That was okay. He might have been a jail house lawyer but he did say “I’m going to kill you and your dog”.  I reacted to that, getting even more ready. I take the first punch always and luckily don’t have a glass jaw and mostly get the last punch. Still my mind is screaming I’m too old for this shot.

Then the thought flashed through my mind.  He’s gong to hit me and I’m going to hurt him bad and his dog’s going to attack me and Gilbert who can’t even see the assailant just smell him. I might just kill his dog to protect Gilbert. Then I’m going to go to jail. I’m going to go to jail for defending myself.  I had no doubt I’d ‘win’. Men can size each other up.  Even as an old guy the punk wasn’t dangerous alone. But he could come back with his ‘gang’ . I can’t fight gangs any more. I’d fought against several guys late teens taking down three out of 10 with kicks to the face and knees to the head causing the other half dozen guys to let me leave. I walked through Harlan in my 20’s.  I’d been an athlete then. Now I’m old and fat and I’d probably beat him unconscious with my fists or do a hip toss , throwing my back out, and breaking my fingers so I couldn’t do surgery, play guitar or write reports. That’s what flashed through my mind. 

“I’m going to kill your dog,” he sneered.  He backed down. Turned began to walk away. His dog had headed back to what was a girl and their bike.  He turned to follow and looked back at me “I’m going to kill your dog”.  He said. So many people competing for Darwin Awards these days. 

He owned the city.  The police and citizens they’re the prisoners. The City Council doesn’t live here. They’re out in Elite World, somewhere in West Vancouver or maybe on the  Moon. Too many politicians stoned. They’ve got body guards and guns , criminal money laundering and drug dealing connections and lawyers on speed dial. The province is only less corrupt than Quebec whose owned by Mafia and Biker gangs.  

I”m nobody.  I’m not safe.  He put his dog on leash and then walked back saying he again was going to kill my dog. I phoned the police then.  I didn’t trust him not to turn around and come for me.  But It was over. The altercation was winding down. As the call was going through he was getting further away. He was going.  I was shaking. That’s what happens after adrenaline with me. I’ve saved lives and then been shaking in hospital corridors after the resuscitation of some adult or child.  

I remember stopping this guy slapping his pregnant wife on the maternity ward , threatening to kick her in belly, her crying. I strode in and pushed him out of the room and he pushed back and then left. The police arrived, asked me for a description. I thought he was 6 foot tall. It was in threat mode.  We make ourselves look big. The English wore tall black fur hats on their heads for that purpose. The guy was something like 5’5”.  I shook after that, embarrassed.

The police call was awful. I felt liked I was being interrogated , told them the street corner, that he was going away from Hastings by the park but then the guy wants to know north or west or towards Richmond and I can’t see the mountains and I don’t know what his girlfriends’ wearing. I’m in self defence mode watching his eyes for movement ready to defend against kick or strike. I’m not an outside observer.  The questions upset me.I felt sick to my stomach. I’m feeling faint and nauseous.  Then the guy asked if I wanted to talk to a police officer.  I thought he was. But then he told me he was the ‘call taker’.  I was too fed up, him asking me questions I didn’t have the answer to and didn’t want to discuss. 

But then the guy cut in front of me with the dog and a friend a block ahead of me turning on to Hastings. Talking on the phone I’d been slowly waking back to the office. Now he’s between me and the clinic. I say I want to talk to the police.  I’m afraid. I’m afraid for Gilbert. I’m afraid he’s now  going to be waiting outside my work with other low life. I’m reminded of the bully in high school who waited for me caught me with a brass knuckle under the eye,  before I took him down. The police arrived. I’ve still got the scar. The fear seems cumulative. I didn’t used to be so disturbed. I think I took things better younger. I’m not feeling good now. 

I got back to the clinic. I told administration what had happened and that I was going home. I’ve stiff upper lipped my life and I just can’t do it any more. I ‘m too old for this shit. I was still shaking. My voice was quivering. I couldn’t help anyone and no one could help me. I say, I can’’t work here any more I don’t feel safe.  I’ve been unhappy with the dangerous drivers on the commute, the hostile neighborhood, everyone so easily offend and now an outright threat. I figure it’s some kind of warning.

I haven’t felt safe in Vancouver for a few years.  It’s the atmosphere.  I can’t get it out of my head the greatest police woman I know  saying “I left when the city wouldn’t let the police fight crime but wanted us to record crime.” She also said “we’d catch criminals and the judges just let them back on the street.”  I see all these guys who have had gun crimes and they’ve done a very little time. Then  they all tell me they have guns. Meanwhile I’m treated like a criminal as a law abiding citizen with a hunting rifle who done more exams and tests and been vetted more than medical school. I’m just a hunter and I’m treated worse that criminals with guns. There’s no deterrence. It’s Bizarro World Canada.  I’m afraid. I never got over a Canadian paying a terrorist who murdered an American soldier $10 million dollars. Crime pays in Canada.

My colleague talked to me as I headed out for my car. “I’ve phoned the police too and it’s the same things.  Always this whole list of questions about me like I’ve done something wrong and nothing happened .” He’s supportive, worried I’m okay. I’m not okay but I appreciate his concern. 

I couldn’t drive home. I pulled over to the curb and cried. I’m old and afraid. I’m afraid I’m old and vulnerable and I can hardly protect my dog. Im grieving more these days. I’m afraid I can’t shake it off. I’m afraid I don’t feel safe in Canada. I feel so vulnerable. Just driving a few blocks in the DTES a half dozens people walked across the road in front of me. If I hit them I’d be held accountable.  The tent city is just there. There’s cops and drugs on crime going on right there on the street, Insite is near by and the cops can’t even go there because it could threaten the addicts so my patients tell me that’s where all the big drug deals go down.  “The cops can’t go there.It’s the criminals own place. No surveillance.”.  

The guy swaggered.  The dog swaggered.  The girl, well, they like ‘bad boys’. Makes them feel safe, even if they kick them around. Eva Brawn world .  Good girls are so passé. The new world order. He swaggered. He could have hit me. It was in his eyes. I truly felt that if I looked a little weaker and hadn’t kept saying “get your dog on the leash”, he’d have lifted his leg and pissed on me. He’s top dog in this area. I’m little dog.  He’s got the City, the Politicians, the Media and he’s beat on others  before. He’s probably spit on his share of cops too.

I was glad when the cop phoned me. He game me confidence. Felt reassuring. 

“I’ve been working down here for the last 25 years and it’s probably the worst it’s been.”

“Three guys murdered yesterday scared me,” I’d said.

“Only one guy shot and two other incidents. It was bad but not as bad as that. We’ve got the guys description and we’ve got some guys who will keep an eye out for him.  If we find him we’ll call. He sounds like he’s got away with bullying other people. If you charge him we can deal with it as a criminal thing. You’d have to pick him out of a line up. He did threaten you and that’s criminal. “

“I felt if I defended myself I’d go to prison.” 

“Only if you use unreasonable force.”  

“What’s reasonable when you’re defending yourself”.  

“Yea there’s that.”

It don’t trust the government.  They’d asked me if the guy with the dog was white and I’d said no. Maybe aboriginal, not black.  But there it was ‘white priviledge’ and ‘social justice’. It was in the tone. Old white guys are in season. The judges aren’t reasonable. If anything they’re afraid too.  Afraid to offend one of the social justice groups.  I felt alone. I was thankful the cop sounded sane.  

“It’s not as bad as it seems. I can tell you.  There’s enough of us on the police force who know what to do but we’re not allowed.”

I immediately think of New York . The city is amazing. Overnight they had good city administration and the city became great again. Safe, clean. A tourist attraction.   I trust this policeman..  He’s not a politician. He’s down to earth and reassuring. He’s not blowing smoke up my ass.

“Thanks. Okay. You’re a good man.” I say.  

I got out of the car again. I’d taken the call on the Mini speaker phone. I felt light headed. I sat down on a staircase with Gilbert. It was a busy loud street and I saw the little guy was afraid. All the noise. Old blind dog. No doubt he worried about me. I cried again. I’m exhausted. I’m just exhausted. I felt weak and clammy. I had to slow and settle my breathing. Reassure Gilbert. Sit for a bit. I still didn’t feel right. 

I got the text asking if I was coming to work tomorrow. I figured I would. I don’t think I can take Gilbert downtown anymore.  I don’t know how parents with children can live in Vancouver.  I know my friends with toddlers are terrified of the criminals ,the needles everywhere, the gangs. 

 I ‘m afraid for my dog. Seeing that pit bull charging full speed right at me and Gilbert,  then this guy threatening me.  All he had to do was put his dog on a leash. 

I’m home now and tired and afraid and men don’t cry. Tough men like me ‘buck up’ .  

I just can’t seem to get it together. I keep crying. IF it’s not the bullies in government with their ‘lick above, kick below’ mentality, it’s little shits on the streets picking on the old guys. I’ve got to pull myself together..

This too will pass.