Okay kiddies, let's everyone go right on ahead this afternoon and fasten your seatbelts, return your seatbacks and tray tables to their upright position, and pay a-fucking-ttention. Your captain has officially turned on the NSFW warning light and we're about to blast off on a few random douche nuggets, so get a grip and hang on tight.
Today I'm taking aim at small, yappy dogs and the shit brained goat humpers that they lead around by a string.
Don't get me wrong: although they are not my favorite companion creatures, small dogs are by default okay (I guess). I've even known three that I liked. A former roommate owns Baylee, the toughest little dog ever known to man, and her sister Miller who was basically cool by association. Bay required surgery in her early life to basically straight line her bowel system but as far as I know is still running around as a sweet little ball of fluff. The third is Fred, my mother-in-law's Bichon Frise, who to this day holds the title for making me lose all composure in public as he did his "special dance" on my niece's arm, much to the horror of everyone else in the room. My brother-in-law Brian and I had to exit stage left in a hurry so as not to traumatize the child, but ol' Fred seemed to be having a grand old time of it.
No, the taint ruffles in question today are these Darwinian missteps that own a creature that weighs less than 20 pounds and acts like it's king shit of turd mountain. I take no issue with mid-sized dogs as they have their moments, but in my mind the word DOG denotes something of at least 50 pounds or so. It's not really the dog's fault, mind you, that they are the way they are. It's true that dogs have distinct personalities but owners do a LOT as far as dictating what is and is not appropriate and acceptable from their little shit machines. Let's use my dog Jake as an example. Jake is a Great Dane-Boxer-Dodge Charger mix that weighs about 140 pounds and is about 5'10" on his back legs. I am a big goofy shit by nature. I raised Jake. Jake is also a big goofy shit. The math isn't that hard people. Big dumb happy(ish) owner, big dumb happy dog. High strung, socially maladjusted, finger up their own ass so far they can strum out Satriani-esque guitar solos on their own colon dickwad for an owner, asshole microdog.
There are two of these little yap-n-shits that are really on my last raw and bleeding nerve lately: one belonging to my next door neighbor and one that I cross paths with daily as I do my morning cardio. The morning cardio mutt is a little Jack Russell that loves to bow up, get all stiff legged, and growl while showing teeth as he and his mama cross by us on the road. I get growled at by something not much larger than my morning b.m. on a daily basis and it was starting to actually annoy me. I decided to try a little social experiment this past Monday and took Jake with me to do my cardio and see what would happen. Essentially it played out thusly: small dog growled - Jake barked, once - small dog peed himself and ran for the culvert - we moved on. It was a good morning. Jake got bacon for breakfast. At least that little shit's owner has the daily decency to apologize for its behavior. I guess you have to give credit where it is due.
The other little butt dragger that's plaguing my existence is my next door neighbor and their ten pound mutt-like substance. There's no delicate way to put this. That dog is fucking stupid and may have a death wish. I own three large dogs that I always walk on a leash. They turn their little turd cutter with legs loose on his own accord. He dearly loves to crap in my yard. His owners try to tell me it's from my dogs. I have actually had to do a show and tell with a grown person to prove my point that it's just not the case. I mean, we're talking rabbit pellets versus the dino-pile in Jurassic Park people. Then the little bastard wants to try to pick a fight with my dogs while they're doing their own business. I've had to take the little shit by the back of the neck back to his house three times now for biting one of my dogs on the back leg MID POOP! I tried to discuss this with my neighbor AGAIN today and they didn't see what the big deal was. I then had to ask AN ADULT if they'd like it if I stormed into their bathroom while they were taking the Browns to the Bowl and bit them on the leg in mid grunt? Seriously? I swear to you these people have less functional intelligence than the dryer lint I found the cat playing with in the kitchen floor this morning. And yet somehow they've managed to breed!!! Needless to say I've made a decision: the next time said rat-in-dog-costume is let loose and starts after one of mine, the last sound it hears may very well be the snap of a leash coming loose.
Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to ponder the merits of buying a BB pistol.
