Texas iron man Betty jo vs flake

Interesting post from the Texas Ironman fb


They first thing this dog pimp left out was there fact that Betty Jo, was a 37 lbs match dog. And she weighed in at 37. Flake was a lean and very big 41 lbs match dog. And she weighed every bit of it that night. I had taken a match at 37 or 38 I can't remember exactly. Against Harold Parsons Gr. CH. SLICK HEAD. A bit cheaper I had been gunning for. For months I'd been trying to get her cornered. But Bobby Smith was friends with all those guys up there in Oklahoma. He had lived there almost all his dog life. And so he wouldn't deliver my messages. Well I found out about that show and still had their guys number that was putting it on. I called him up and he made one phone call and I was hooked Betty into slick head. Well I kept it to myself for several weeks. But then I slipped and mentioned it to Bobby. I thought we was to far along for them to back out. ESPECIALLY WITHOUT PAYING. I was wrong. A few days later they guy holding the event called me with some song and dance number about Parsons getting sentenced on something just a few days before we were scheduled to go. And he was going to get probation if it went well. Jail if it didn't in either case his travel would be restricted. He didn't have any money. Don't expect a forfeit. Blah,bablah,bablah, blah, blah. Basically , go get F'd. Then he told me there was a problem with another bitch fight also. And it looks like the show is falling apart. But one of the parties was still wanting to go real bad. If I was interested. I would have to push some weight. But the front only was a all amount. And there was some kind of deal made. To intice me. So I took the match and gave up the four pounds. I didn't believe Oklahoma had ever seen a dog that could whip Betty Jo. She compound fractured dogs when she bit them.*
Well the night of the match it was cold and windy. The pit walls were constructed out of old heavy metal garage door pannels. And as soon as we let the dogs go. It was very obvious Betty Jo was in serious trouble. Flake hit her head on in the center of the pit. And drove her back to the corner from which she had come. Like a freight train. Betty was bowled over backwards and would never fight on her feet again until the scratching started. I mean Flake never let her take a deep breath the first hour of the match. And a couple of people started giving me grief almost immediately about stopping this. Well, I was thinking, here in a minute that big bitch is going to sling her loose. And she'll catch that monster across the nose, like she did the last one, that had went just like this. Four pounds and all. That bitch had broken our stiffle. In the first five minutes. But when Betty got a hold on that one's nose. She broke their snout in half down the center of the bridge. Then compound fractured the right front leg , nearly severing it, on the first scratch. But it wasn't to be so this night. While Flake did not bite as hard as the last one. She was way bigger and stronger. And real rough. She was tossing Betty Jo around like a rag doll. Slamming her from the floor to the wall and back again. With tremendous force. Over and over again. And about the 8 to 10 minute mark. Betty hit the top corner of one of those metal panels just right and knocked out a top cutter clean. Then around the fifteen minute mark. It happened again. Breaking off the other top cutter. We had one bad bottom cutter when we got there. I knew there wouldn't be no awesome sudden come back after that. She couldn't even get a good hold after that. And By the twenty-five minute mark. There was very little hope she would survive no matter what I did. We was wrecked in our right front shoulder. And there was a lot of flesh wounds that come from a sharp toothed rough dog. That doesn't have a terrible mouth. And it looked bad. All that bright red blood all over that white dog. But even though Flake was still running over BETTY JO, AND STILL FIGHTING AT A FEVERD PITCH. SHE WASN'T PUTTING BETTY JO AWAY. She was still working
But like she was fighting a dish Towle. Slinging and jerking. Not digging in for the kill. Flake had no finish. That's a lack of desire. To end it. She just kept working , probably just like she had been doing every night of her keep. If Betty Jo had any quit in her. I assure you. We would have already seen it by then. Well just about the time I was coming clear on these things. And making up my mind what I was going to do. And what my best chances was. A couple of them geniuses. Started really giving me hell. About stopping this. And saving the white dog. I told one of them. If he didn't have the stomach for it. Go set in the car like the rest of the girls. And the second exchanged. Bobby put in the match report with a small editors comment. The fella outside the pit. Said, "Why don't you pick that white dog up. She has no chance." I said, "Mr. Me and this dog have an aggrement. I told her if she will stay with me. I will stay with her. " Bobby wrote in parentheses: ( that's a nice Texas way of saying kiss my ass). And that's exactly what it ment. This is as rough an activity short of war between men. That anyone can get involved with. It's brutal. It's harsh. And can get damn right ugly. It's not for the faint of heart. And if you've got a heart. It will be broken in pieces over and over again and again. And sometimes it's totally shattered. And if you can't bear up during those times. Pick up the pieces and go on. You ain't going to last long.*
Well it went like most of these do. When the dominant dog has no heart to finish. And eventually they start running out of gas. And the pace gets slower, and slower, especially when it windy and cold. And I knew it was the wind and the cold that was my greatest foe now. I had gotten a turn called on Betty Jo at some point. Let me say. Betty Jo never made an honest turn in her life. And I would have been better off not to have called it. But I was trying to win. Not draw. So some time after the hour mark. We got our first handle. When I got to the corner. I had a wet noodle. When they called us to face them. Betty was completely down in her left front shoulder. So I kinda cooked her from the right side. Letting the left hang loose out in front. So she would at least stumble forward in the right direction. When I released her. To my great surprise. She kinda got that left leg stiff under her first step. Just enough to throw her sideways. And stumble backwards all the way to the wall to my left. She never took her eyes off of Flake. And was still on her feet when she hit the wall. And for the first and only time that night. I was glad that wall was smooth painted metel. Instead of rough particle board. Cause she slid all the way down that wall to the neutral corner. And up the other one to complete her first scratch. My god, we can still win this. On Flakes scratch she walked over and when she got there. She stopped and was bobbing her head. Looking for a way in around Betty Jo's mouth. Finally swinging out and diving in from my left. And the scratches went like that. Betty Jo stumbling. Barley making it. Then Flake walking over careful. And coming in from the side or with her shoulder. On Flakes last scratch. I was determined to hold Betty Jo still. And get bit myself if I had to. And not let Betty finish Flakes scratches. Which is what had really been happening. We were going scratch and mouth. That's kind of a soft spot between. Fur to fur. And take hold. They have to put their mouth on you. Not their shoulder or side of their head. But they don't have to take hold. The point is exactly for this kind of match. Where the game dog is going to be hurt and shocky. And maybe lost all their teeth or half their snout. But will always lead with a brutal mouth assault. And one who's only still there because they was always in the lead. And will want to avoid the mouth of a game dog as much as they can at the end. So I stiffen, Flake comes over slow. Stops in front of me. Starts bobbing her head. This time dives in from the front. But turns her head. Glances off my right hand. With her head clearly turned away from Betty Jo. Betty Jo loosing her mind. Flake slides down my arm and leg. And has her head down groveling at my feet. Actually taking hold on my boot for several counts. Taking a 19 count. When Betty kind of swats at her with her right front paw. And Flake takes hold of it. I thought I would die. My heart stopped. Bobby ordered me to let the dogs go. I did. They stumbled around a couple of times. And went to the ground. Betty Jo on bottom. In holds. Flake on top out of hold looking around. They stayed right there for over five or six minutes. On that cold tarp. By the time I couldn't take it any moore. And just said funk it. And snatched her loose. It was to late. I should have done it right away. But it was obvious Betty was in hold. I took one more gamble. That ment it was the end for me no matter what. And I went to the water for the first time. To try a desperate attempt. To wake her up. It did not work. Betty fell to the ground. And as our friend said took the count like any other old currently would do. I don't give a lot for one of these bastards to say that suit to my face. Cause I am Texas Finest. And where I'm from a man disrespect your mama, your wife, or a fine dog like Betty Jo. You stomp a mud hole in his ass.
Thank you gentelmen.

 

WTF someones thoughts on this

 

Damn good dog gave it her all just met a better one to me know that happened to be a cur? But thats wha I taken out out of it

 

Now ^^^ ,,,,excuse my fat fingers sometimes I smudge the iPhone buttons

 

I just had a thought didn't flake disqualify on account of taking hold of the boot

 

Love him or hate him Coy bull dogged till the wheels fell off. His writing style is a nice change too. Strips away the bullshit.

 

I agree,,, live action right there...