A month or two passed after my family moved to Continental Village and suddenly we had new neighbors. The two other model homes near our house were occupied by the Maza family at No. 257 and the Steagle family at No. 261. The Maza family from NYC spent weekends at their country home, but the Steagles were year-round residents. Mr. Steagle worked at a car dealership in White Plains, and Mrs. Steagle worked at a telephone company central office in Peekskill. They were both about 30 years old. Mr. and Mrs. Maza were older. They were in the clothing business in NYC.
There was open space around our three houses. Each house was separated by a lot. The open field behind the three houses stretched to Putnam Road. On the north side of the Steagle's house, an open field stretched to Schuyler Lane. On the south side of our house was a small old barn and near it the midgets' house. South of these buildings was an old apple orchard.
The Steagles had a large brown dog, half German shepherd, half collie. They named him Brownie. He was friendly and enjoyed being around children. My brother John and I played with this lovable dog frequently. He followed us on short hikes. He was seldom on a leash.
I remember our first Christmas in Continental Village. John and I got a small Flexible Flyer sled from grandparents as a Christmas present. I don't recall what the other children received as gifts. There was plenty of snow and we gave our sled a good test on the hill at the Highland Drive and Putnam Road intersection. Later on Christmas Day we used pieces of home-cooked turkey to persuade the Steagle's dog to follow us and participate in sled dog practice. We hooked a rope to his collar and the other end of the rope was hooked to our sled. Initially the rope trailed under the dog's body and Brownie was tripping on the rope as he pulled our sled. So we adjusted the rope around his shoulders with a knot above his back and the rope trailing to our sled. That worked.
Only one of us could travel on the sled, as the weight of two boys pushed the sled runners through the snow crust to the dirt road, and the dog stopped pulling. We were testing our "sled dog" on the old tractor road near the midgets' house. It was great fun. The dog enjoyed the experience too, as John and I took turns sledding and laughing.
We had no idea that our happy activity was under surveillance. Another dog, about the size of Brownie, was watching our every move from a crouched position behind a mound of snow in the apple orchard. I can't remember the dog's name, but it was a mixed breed and fathered by Mr. Zeliph's coon dog. I remember how mean-tempered it was around strangers, especially kids. I knew the owner.
I don't think that John or I saw the dog until he leaped from hiding and attacked Brownie on the old tractor road. Brownie's response to the sneak attack was a defining moment in my young mind. I was riding in the sled and was instantly tossed into the snow. The two big dogs engaged in a magnificent dog fight. It didn't last very long. Although Brownie was handicapped with the harness and sled, he soon got the better of the other dog. The attacker broke and ran into the snow-covered apple orchard. Brownie followed in pursuit, dragging the sled behind him. We ran after both dogs to see more fighting, but they ran faster than we did.
John and I sat down in the snow and waited. We heard the dogs growling and fighting in the distance and later only Brownie growling. For another minute or two we didn't hear anything. Then Brownie returned, out of breath, still dragging the sled with tangled rope behind him. He looked magnificent. We said kind words to him and petted him. He was our champion. We removed the sled and walked him home. We told the Steagles about the dog fight but didn’t tell them that we had tied the sled by rope to their dog. We didn't want to spoil the Christmas victory celebration.
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