How one overly aggressive German Shepherd brought this community closer together

My bride and I like to think we live on the prettiest street in McClellanville, a street lined with live oak trees, planted and neatly spaced during the Roosevelt administration, each adorned with an abundance of Spanish moss.

But for the past several weeks I've been unable to walk my little dog Wasabi the length of Baker Street for fear he might be harmed.

The problem has been a very active - aggressive? - German Shepherd brought into the neighborhood several months ago by a man I'll call J.D.

J.D. is about my age, but walks very gingerly; he's a former Marine who may still, I believe, carry the scars of his service in Vietnam.

His dog is named Augustus something, but he is called Gus by all. He is young, beautiful, fast and powerful. Boy, is he powerful.

Several dogs in McClellanville run loose without a problem; Elaine and I laugh that we sometimes identify people in town by their dog rather than their name.

Gus is not allowed to run free, but still there have been many complaints made to Town Hall.

I don't know the specifics, but I do know that a couple weeks ago I was caught in the middle as he tried to get at a neighbor's dog. It took several of us to finally get control of Gus.

Shortly after that incident, I read that there were 18,522 insurance claims last year for dog-related confrontations in the United States, with insurance payouts averaging a whopping $37,051 per incident.

Gus' behavior was getting serious and J.D. might someday pay dearly for it.

I was encouraged when I learned the town marshal talked to J.D. and recommended an electronic fence.

J.D. agreed it was a good idea and a few days later, Wasabi and I walked by J.D.'s house and saw little flags on the lawn. J.D. was on the front porch with an untethered Gus.

"Looks good," I said in reference to the flags - and in just that instant Gus tore off the porch and straight through the electronic fence, heading for a terrorized Wasabi.

I fended him off while J.D. stumbled off the porch. I couldn't let go of Wasabi, knowing he would run and I could no longer protect him. Gus would be on him in seconds.

Finally we got a grasp on his collar. I let go of Wasabi and he took off, running about halfway home before waiting for me. J.D. got a leash and the crisis was over.

He begged me not to report him and I agreed, but as we left church last Sunday I did tell another neighbor, Greg Frampton, who was well aware of J.D.'s problems with Gus.

As we spoke, we agreed that no electronic fence would stop Gus. The only answer was a real fence. And we should build it.

Greg suggested it be a project for the Episcopal men and he promptly recruited three other church members - George Geer, Hank Resch and Larry Mellichamp, who has an engineering degree. Larry immediately became the ad hoc leader.

In the next few days, Greg got Zoning Board approval for the fence, then, along with J.D., ordered lumber and wiring, which were delivered Wednesday.

On Thursday, we met at J.D.'s and over the next two days erected a 56-foot by 96-foot fence that backs up to J.D.'s back door.

Someone suggested it would make a good dog park. Only if we kept Gus out, I added. Joking, okay?

So now we have our peaceful, lovely street back. Wasabi says he can't wait to walk it again.

Contact Bob Bestler at bestler6@tds.net.

This story was originally published May 4, 2018 at 4:54 PM with the headline "How one overly aggressive German Shepherd brought this community closer together."