The Gatorhead
Written by Gabriel R. Lopez
originally written 3/2/06


I once had an object that inspired fear. I carried it with me on my journey from the sunshine state of Florida to the silver state of Nevada. This object brings to mind several bittersweet memories involving my former dog, Mackie, who is no longer with us. In fact, the object I’m going to describe for you was very effective in intimidating my dog. This object could easily be identified as a mass produced consumer product; the thing was relatively worthless where I grew up in Pasco county. The object was a diabolical looking thing which, had an uncanny resemblance to any number of creepy crawly lizards rumored to lurk in the swamps. The menacing object I wish to tell you about is easiest to describe as the “Gatorhead.”


As the name implies, the Gatorhead was an authentic replica of a baby alligator’s head. One could tell it was a replica because it was attached at the base of the neck with a hinge that was molded into the plastic. The creepiest feature, was the one wandering reptilian eye that was the color of amber. The left eye was an open socket, as that particular eye had broken off at some point. The loss of the eye added to the menacing look which seemed to radiate from it. The teeth in the Gator’s jaw were in a menacing grin similar to how I would imagine that of a snarling dragon in fairy tales.

If someone were holding the Gatorhead in one hand, they could feel the soft leather like scales. Also, if one held it just right above the hinge you could make it snap its jaws with lifelike precision. It used to sit in the center of a wicker cocktail table in the living room surrounded with assorted knickknacks. The Gator’s teeth were cruelly positioned and sharp like the bicuspids of a shark. It looked like a snarling animal, it was intimidating to anyone who was unfamiliar with the demonic appearance of the object. Plus it made a loud cracking sound, like a cap gun being fired when its jaws snapped.

It was an effective tool that we often employed while disciplining the dog. Mackie was a good dog and a wonderful friend, unfortunately he had an annoying behavior of knocking over the trash bin and consuming whatever leftovers he could get his mouth on. Often I would have to pry the dogs jaw open like a lion tamer and fish out what he was munching on at the time. His behavior was so bad that we eventually had to guard our food from the jaws of doom. It was by chance that we discovered the dogs foil one evening while I was horsing around with the Gatorhead, I realized he (the dog) would run every time I snapped the jaws shut. It was not long before we started using it as a punishment method in the style of Pavlov. When Mackie misbehaved we used the sound he disliked from the Gatorhead to shock the dog. After a while the very sight of the Gatorhead was enough to scare him off. Eventually the Gatorhead became a ward of sorts. One that protected our trash bin from the misbehavior of our beloved family pet.

Things that are often thought to be meaningless have some value. Even though the Gatorhead looked ferocious, and was useless in every conceivable way; It did inspire the dog’s preconceived fear of the unknown. Even now the Gatorhead probably still inspires fear, on a shelf in some consignment shop, a thrift store, or maybe even somewhere in the desert. It is the one thing that would probably remind any one who gazed upon it to shiver.