“I couldn't live a week without a private library
- indeed, I'd part with all my furniture and squat and sleep on the floor
before I'd let go of the 1500 or so books I possess.” ― H.P. Lovecraft

Whistling In The Graveyard: April 19, 2009

Friday, April 24, 2009

Ok, It's been an interesting absence.

Went home two weeks ago for Easter. That went pretty well. Family is good, dinner was great, managed to stay off the subject of religion (not easy to pull off on freaking Easter). Yeah, everything was cool till we got home and saw that the dog had escaped.

See, a few years ago my sister's college roommates rescued a dog from the pound. Come the end of the semester they hadn't found him a new home and they guilt-tripped my sister into taking him home. Not long after that she moved into an apartment in town and left the dog with my Mom.

This wouldn't be a problem if not for the following.

#1: The dog is an energetic 200 lb rottweiler mix that needs lots of exercise.

#2: My Mom can't give this dog the exercise he needs.

#3: She can't let him run loose because most of the neighborhood is afraid of him.

#4: He's quite possibly the stupidest dog I've ever met.

I know, I know, it's not his fault he's stupid, he's never been trained, but that being said, FUCK is he stupid.

Anyways, knowing how big and stupid he is, I bought Mom a special chain for use when she puts him outside to take a shit. The chain has individually welded links, two swivel joint so he can't bind the chain and thereby break it, and a snap link for quickly and easily hooking it to his collar, which I'd also modified. All of this is connected to a two-foot long metal spike driven into the ground with hooks pointing back so that to remove it you have to dig a fairly sizeable hole.

Point being, a fucking ox couldn't pull this thing out of the ground, let alone this dog.

So when I come home that weekend I see that Mom has taken my chain off the spike and in-between she has snapped the small, plastic-coated wire that we got for the 35 lb dog.

Why? Probably to give him more room to run, but I didn't ask. See, I was in for a pleasant holiday with my family and this situation is exactly the kind of thing that will start a huge unpleasant argument. I simply ignored it and resigned myself to the fact that I was going to be up all night chasing this dog around the neighborhood.

Now in hindsight, I should have simply removed the flimsy cable and welded the fucking chain to the fucking post and been done with it. I mean, it's a fucking twenty foot chain for fuck's sake.

Buuuuuut, hindsight being a pain in the ass we went to have Easter dinner and came back to find the goddamn dog gone. So as I'm out trying to find the fucking dog, he's running further and further away because he thinks it's a game. I can't stop trying to catch the dog though because if I come inside and sit down them Mom goes out and tries to catch him. How does she do this you ask? She gets in her SUV (and kiss my ass, she lives in a place where she needs one) and drives down the street. When the dog comes running to the car Mom tries to park on the chain trailing behind him.

The really insane part is that this has apparently happened before and the parking on the chain thing actually works.

Well, it works when I'm not home. I have no doubt that if I let her keep trying while I'm there she'll run him over and I just don't wanna deal with that.

So I was out till 3:30 AM chasing him all over the fucking place and gave up. Went inside, went to sleep. At 4:45 AM Mom wakes me up because she can hear him howling and I have to go find him.

Well I find him. He's exactly where he was last time he pulled this shit. He goes over to see the neighbor's dog, gets his chain wrapped around the other dog's post and the two of them merrily run in opposite circles till neither of them have any chain left. Then they both bark and howl till they wake everyone up, thus maximizing the chances of them (plus or minus me untangling them) getting shot.

So we have a big stupid dog and a small panicked dog hooked to opposite ends of what is now a giant metal knot. We're on a 45 degree slope, in mud about 4 inches deep. It's dark, and they're both pulling like mad.

I should have shot the fucking thing, but I couldn't because I just HAVE to fucking LOVE animals for some stupid fucking reason.

So I drag his stupid ass home, PADLOCK the chain directly to the stake and give the key to my Mom.

WHY do I give the key to my Mom I hear you asking? Because it's the surest way to permanently lose the fucking thing. Keys, instruction manuals, computer installation CD's, the little plastic things that hold batteries in remote controls, none of them are safe around any member of my family.

ANYWAY. I'm headed home again this weekend because Brian and Andrea are coming in and since Brian moved five hours south of home and I moved two hours north we really don 't get to hang out much. So I'll likely be at his parent's place most of the weekend. Those of you with my cell number needn't panic when I don't answer as I don't get reception out there.

Be back Sunday night.

Oh yeah, almost forgot. Anyone want a dog?