Monday, September 8, 2008

Dog days

Well, the MOG is home, finally. I did good for a week by myself, didn't beat up the kids or get mugged... At the end of October he leaves for several weeks... maybe I should get a dog.

Or not, since I pretty much hate dogs. Oh, you want to know about that? Okay.

When I was little, we lived in a trailer in Cut-n-Shoot. My memories of C&S are pretty happy... we had family living nearby, an endless supply of outdoor cats, and a vegetable garden, and occasionally we heated up bathwater on the stove or collected twigs to burn inside the house! In adult retrospect, I realize we were probably incredibly broke. But what does a 4 year old know about that? I digress.

Anyways, the people across the street had Dobermans. Lots of 'em. And they stayed in a little fence all the time, snarling and threatening the neighborhood. Oh, except for when they jumped the fence. I lived with a holy fear of those dogs, as well as the free-range turkeys. (another story) Living out there taught me that dogs are not our friends.

In Beaumont, Mammaw lived with a series of humanized poodles who got taken to the groomer and rode in the Caddy and had it really good. Suzette? Yes. But Suzette had no use for humans, especially small ones, so we were never close. There was an ancient blind poodle in the backyard that I was warned to steer clear of. Check.

A few years later, we lived in a mansion of sorts in River Plantation (these are the days of our lives). There were no loose neighborhood dogs, as Fluffy and Fifi and such were kept indoors with their toenails painted. (pawnails? discuss.)

I had a number of entrepreneurial endeavors while we lived in RP, from my age 8-12. I sold off my books, I ran a babysitting agency, etc. One day on a matter of business, I walked down to a neighbors place and was invited inside. Now, this lady had two ratty little curs of some kind, probably purebred terrier-whatsits. "They won't bite," she assured me just moments before Mopsy dug his teeth into my heel. I was panicking and trying to shake him loose, and he was hanging on... I limped home with my bleeding heel and you better believe I have faith in NO dog's word to this day.

Since then, I grew up and I have had to butch up significantly since we toured the country and I had to face countless beasts along the way. I bluff "not afraid" pretty well, but I think some of them aren't buying it. I especially try to fool Enoch, since he is my dog-in-law and also he is as big as a horse. Luckily, Enoch is a few candles short of a birthday cake, so he believes what I tell him.

Of all dogs that I hate, I hate little rat-fink Chihuahuas the most. DESPISE and LOATHE. What is the point? Seriously. If I was going to get a dog, which I may still do someday, I would get one that couldn't be stolen by an owl. I have made a few dog friends along my journey, all large intimidating non-rabid-barkers.

Chihuahuas. Please.

All that to say, if I feel unsafe at home, maybe a dog is not the solution. Maybe a nice Glock.


  1. Yes, a nice Glock will do better. Doesn't make noise unless you want it (and need it) to.

  2. Good history of your dog fears. I've never heard it all, only seen you run for cover several times.

  3. I don't run. Then they would know. I slink away as quietly as possible.

  4. I meant "slip for cover" behind a male.

  5. Enoch is Honored AND thinking about being offended but not quite sure--he is mostly honored to be in the select few

  6. the only reason Anyone should ever have an ankle biter would be cuz the do not have any friends no job no kids no spouse and no Jesus

  7. just kidding.........

    I just remember how wonderful it was to have a little Maggy Moo.........

    (long hair chihuahua)

    all of a sudden i was working 45 plus hours a week and my sweet little dog was spending the majority of her time alone......locked in a small room with newspaper and dogfood and water.....

    depressing for her and me......

  8. now then....I did have..... 2 neighbor chihuahuas who would run the fence line at 3am......

    I went to talk to the Spanish speaking owners and kindly expressed my unhappiness with broken Spanish and hand gestures.....

    These two little monsters would run my fence line and all the neighbors fence lines......yap yap yap...and get all the dogs barking.....3am.....ish


    After signing broken Spanish....with the lady of the house.....they stopped for about a week....

    Then...they slowly started back up....I went and spoke to the man of the house........and the dogs again stayed home for a few days......

    I went to the house 4 times in about a month....

    They ended up being outside all the day and yapping 24/7........AND 3am.......

    Horrible......So I decided to call the Dog Catcher....

    I had been such a patient loving neighbor.... but enough was enough.....

    So with the phone in my hand and the number in my head....I began to dial......Then God showed me how much trouble this would cause this family and how the fine would be too great for them to pay....

    DAD GUMMIT.........

    So I did nothing.....I just endured....

    then after weeks of sleepless nights......

    a PIT BULL comes into MY YARD and attacks ENOCH!

    Neighbors witness the entire thing...and called to report it.....and also let me know that this same dog has bitten their child........

    So....I called the Dog Catcher....Animal Control...

  9. This really nice lady came out to the house and she was checking Enoch......cause she has a shepherd of her own.....She was searching for bo bos tooo.....

    While she was checking him out.....the two BRAT DOGS from MsLillies old house...came out and boldly began barking and terrorizing Enoch......right in front of the Animal control lady......

    She witnessed everything and she took matters in her own hands and now this neighborhood again sleeps through the night.......and the PIT BULL still resides down the road patiently awaiting for me to pass him everyday when we walk our mile.....

    I might be chewed up from coming between a Pit Bull and a German but by golly I'll be rested up and ready...........for it....and fully alert!

  10. I loved that. Dog in law who is a few candles short of a birthday cake.-G

  11. A Glock is a firearm - gun.

  12. The part about the abundance of outdoor cats still gives me the heebie jeebies. Our stay in the area galvanized me for life so I will be working diligently for a paycheck until I am 95! I love dishwashers, airconditioning and maintenance men. (nothing personal there.)
    The turkeys were very colorful and visited us often, gobbling gleefully and if I remember, hindered some of your sermons you were preaching from a soapbox in the driveway. A shadow of things to come. mama

  13. Glock is actually not a gun.

    Glock is the name of a company mostly known for making some of the first 9mm hand guns. When someone says they should “get a Glock” they usually mean a 9mm pistol, not necessarily a Glock brand gun.

    Kind of like saying you need some Kleenex when you really need tissue, not really Kleenex brand tissue.


  14. I resisted including the pun on the Kleenex, while talking about guns, to “blow your nose.”

  15. worthless dogs. i hate em. what did they ever do for anyone. bomb gun, drug, and illegal alien sniffing mutts. ignore all that bunk about dogs being able to sense heart attack, seizures, and earth quakes. and dont even get me started on the demon seeing eye dogs... foul beasts forcing humans to become dependant on a flea ridden mangy beast. dogs are what we make of them, sadly 90% of humans are lazy or are to scared to give there dog a good beating every so often to show em whose boss. yes beat the wretched mongrels.


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