Bezdicek’s hyperdog survives visitor’s drive to rib cage

Randy Bezdicek recalls hearing stories about how Tiger Woods’ father, Earl, used to sometimes reach in his pocket and jingle coins when one of his son’s match-play opponents was standing over a crucial putt.

Bezdicek isn’t sure if the stories are true, but he’s not taking any chances on letting his young daughters, Savana and Sierra, lose focus over any kind of shot they might be facing because of similar antics.

Enter Xena, the Bezdicek’s loveable dog, who provides all kinds of noise and distractions while Savana and Sierra are hitting balls on the practice range their father has constructed in the backyard of their Colbert farm home.

Xena, when allowed to run free, will lunge and bark at Bezdicek’s daughters as they tee up balls on the practice mats. She bounces around in front of the tees while the girls are addressing the golf ball and then darts aside just as they finish their swings and make contact.

“If that doesn’t distract them, nothing will,” Bezdicek said.

In addition, Xena occasionally chews up one of the girls’ many practice balls – “usually when we have company, because she’s a brat and wants a little attention,” Randy Bezdicek explained.

Now reporters are urged to never become part of the story they are covering, but when I stopped by to interview the Bezdiceks at the home last week I nearly did.

After talking to Bezdicek and his daughters for some time – and laughing at Xena’s bizarre behavior on the practice range – I decided to hit a couple of shots of my own.

By that time, Xena had been caged up so we could talk.

My first wedge shot carried just right of the 100-yard target and drew praise from Randy and Savana.

Sierra, might have been impressed, too, but she was busy letting Xena out of her cage.

And just as I rolled a second ball onto the tee and started my downswing, Hyperdog sprinted in front of the tee, barked loudly and took a badly bellied pitching wedge shot right in the rib cage.

My first thought was that I killed the dog. I mean she was no more than five feet in front of me when I hit the ball, and I took a full swing.

But instead of dropping, she simply let out with a small yelp, ran up to me to be petted and then positioned herself to “attack” the next shot – which never happened.

“That’s O.K.,” Savana assured me. “She’s been hit a lot of times before.”

“But she doesn’t get hit very much anymore,” Randy added. “Unless friends come over.”

Still, it’s enough to make one wonder why these loyal canines continue to be our best friends.