shanmonster | Who Let the Dogs Out?

gha5t, are you and Linda planning on coming over tonight to bake cookies with

f00dave? If so, let me know, and I'll hitch a ride with you when I'm through work.

And now, for the rest of you, here's something else.

When I walked to work today, I saw the squirrels and crows as usual, but this time, they were completely silent. Squirrels bounded across lawns, and vanished from my sight when I drew near. Crows stood on the side of the road, flipping oak leaves in a search for tasty treats, but didn't utter a sound. It was rather eerie. I'm used to them being loquacious. Crows are a garrulous species.

A pigeon roosted briefly in my window sill the other day. It wasn't my old friend, Scroffy. I think he's dead. I haven't seen him in over a year. I wonder if the visiting bird was one of his kids. I doubt it. The bird was rather lovely, and his genetics didn't seem to make pretty babies. Japscat and Bukkake weren't exactly beauty queens of the bird world.

Last night, I saw several people out walking their dogs despite the considerable chill. It made me remember a day, long ago, when I took Buoy Dog for a walk. I lived in a campground in Knutsford, in the desert of British Columbia. I'd attached a huge, heavy, rusted chain to Buoy's collar, and was running back and forth along the driveway. Buoy was doing a great job of running in step with me until some Doberman Pinschers began barking. Then he jerked his head to see what they were doing. And that action made the loose end of the chain whip across my knees, tearing a big patch of skin away and sending me flying face first into the dirt.

This was already bad enough. I'm rolling around in the dirt, clutching my bleeding knees to my body, bawling my eyes out. And I'm also holding Buoy's chain, so he won't get involved with the two Dobermans, who are both freaking out at this point.

Now Buoy was a very protective dog, and when he saw me lying on the ground bleeding with ravening Dobermans plunging at ends of their tethers, he saw fit to take care of me. He did this by aggressively kicking at the dirt with his hind legs, sending plumes of dirt flying all over me. So now I was covered with blood, tears, and dirt.

The Dobermans were still spazzing. Their owners were coming out of their trailer to see what all the ruckus was. They saw me lying on the ground and rushed over to see if I was ok. On seeing strangers coming over to possibly threaten me, Buoy asserted his ownership in the best way he knew how: he cocked up a leg and pissed all over me.

I really loved that dog, but that was not one of his finer moments, I must say.