Photo by Wikus de Wet.


Photo by Wikus de Wet.

I shat myself. Never has a Rottweiler been that close to biting off my entire ball sac. 

I was walking with Wikus, Joff and Chris around an abandon building when we saw five steaming piles of turd coiled in precise proximity from one another. Joff said these were from the guard dog, which was nowhere to be seen. I raised my nostrils to notice a deep dark entrance upon a ledge. Intrigued, I leapt up while the other three chaps remained below with the brownie points. The moment I straightened up on the ledge, I heard a chain rattle along the concrete floor from within the deep dark and before I could steady my balance, a Rottweilers basketball sized head was wide open teeth flaring for my crotch. Without turning any part of my body I pushed backwards off the ledge as its chain became taught and yanked its front limbs into the air. I managed to catch my camera in mid air during the 180 turn, but had to use my right hand to push off of the tar and stones in order to save my face from devouring the brownie point, which happened to be about 15 centimetres away. I was horizontal – heels above the head, with speed.

Good way to get the blood pumping at 11am and thankfully only a bleeding palm with no skin. Still got my ballas, boet!

Later, the guard of the dog came out and Wikus snapped the above photo. I think Wikus might of also dropped a point in his broeks when faced with Johnnies Rotti.

by Sean Metelerkamp.