Gidget the Guard Dog

A Gidget McFidget Story

Last week, you read about my move to Nashville to wait for a heart transplant and how I managed to bring Gidget McFidget along with me. A couple weeks ago I wrote about Gidget’s attempt to protect me from the maintenance supervisor shortly after our arrival.

Today, I am sharing another anecdote about Gidget’s protectiveness during an incident that occurred shortly after her wrath turned upon the maintenance worker. In this instance, I was returning from walking her after dinner, just as daylight was fading.

Excerpt from THREE HEARTED GIRL

Gidget’s homicidal tendencies did come with an upside. One evening, shortly after I moved in, we were coming back from our after-dinner walk, and I spotted a group of three young men hovering around the locked entrance to the building. This door was tucked inside the parking garage which caused it to remain in shadow. The trio huddled together and spoke in hushed tones then stopped speaking altogether when they saw us approaching.

The stairs visible from the balcony led down into the parking garage. We parked under the apartment building and rode the elevator up to our apartment. When I took her out to the courtyard, we rode the elevator down then climbed the stairs up to the courtyard.

My instincts told me to be careful, and I approached the door with trepidation. On the surface, they looked like three young men just hanging out, but I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that came over me. Gidget picked up on my energy and began growling in a tone deeper than expected from a dog her size.

Smiling and nodding toward the men, I walked up to the door to scan my key card to gain entry to the lobby.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” one of the men said before I reached the door. My stomach sank.

“Our friend lives here and we’re waiting for him to get home from work. Could you let us inside?” he asked.

When I first moved into the apartment, the folder containing copies of my lease also contained a list of rules. The first rule on the list warned to never open the door to the building for someone you do not know. Doing so defeated the purpose of having a secure building.

“I’m, sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “The building management has strict rules against letting people into the building.”

The same man took a step toward me to say something else, but Gidget went from her deep growl to a full-blown banshee shriek. I wrapped her leash around my hand and pulled her tight against my leg as all three of the men took several steps back.

I turned and scanned my card, opened the door, and quickly ducked inside to the safety of the lobby, but the door did not click shut behind me. The same man sprang forward and caught the door handle before it closed, sticking his foot between the door and the frame.

Gidget saw her opportunity and laid into him like a piranha, running her needle-sharp teeth up and down his ankle like a sewing machine stitching a hem. His foot was nearly the same size as her torso, but she grabbed the laces of his athletic shoe and shook it with the pent-up fury of all her terrier ancestors.

Crying out in a language I did not recognize, he jumped back, and the door thudded securely shut. I pulled Gidget into the elevator, and we hurried to the sanctuary of our apartment.

Gidget McFidget in her "Blue Steel" pose. She knew she was a badass.

Although we had already eaten our dinner, Gidget received a nice juicy piece of drumstick from the leftover rotisserie chicken in the refrigerator as a reward for her oversized valor.