very rarely have i been accused of being a nice lady. even rarer still are the times when I choose to label someone else as nice/neato/cool/really swell or nifty out loud. I usually keep that to myself.
I am, however, REALLY REALLY good at telling someone when their being a cock.
and today...I had to tell someone about their fucking dog.
the little psycho husky fucker is now about six months old...and just as much a domineering, loud mouthed, unpleasant piece of shit as the first time he snarled at me as a ten pound sack of fuzz. dood, I hate snitty dogs. I hate them even more when their destined to be sixty some pounder, snitty dogs. they're just too dangerous...and as far as I'm concerned serve no real purpose other than stroking their owners' egos.
so last night I reached for this little fuck's water bowl. I try ALL THE TIME to like this dog. I mean...that's what I do. I hold babies, pet dogs and pinch random asses. I've been trying to teach this d-bag some manners and made the move for his water bowl when the lil' waste of space bit me. he got my right hand and did a number on my pinky.
my first reaction was to kick him to haitii, but the little voice in my head that keeps me outta jail said "you can't kill tom's dog. you CAN'T kill tom's dog." so I walked away. at which point his momma told me "hit me."
game on. I put barky mcbitie pants in a dominant down (all the while he's trying to tear me up) and spent the next ten minutes avoiding bites and playing alpha female all over his ass. taking his water, blocking his path, holding him down by his throat and NOT attempting to squeeze the life out of him (I swear)...but no matter what you do to this cock sucking god forsaken bitch of a dog...he always gets back up and tries to assert himself.
any.where.else.i.would.have.killed.him.
I finally gave up on him, knowing that the only way to really get my point across would be to break a bone...and again not-going-to-jail-voiced-suki says that's a no-go.
my finger's been swollen and stiff. couldn't climb the rest of the night, which is reason enough right there to off this fleabag, and went home fully prepared for a night of tongue-biting, eye-rolling, trying to let it go.
'til today. I get a tug on the ponytail and hear "hey, I hear you were making my dog mad."
holy fucking shit. he really just said that.
me: yeah. look what the little asshole did to my hand.
him: suck it up
me: I hate him. he's too dominant. that's not cool in such a large animal
him: he has a problem with his food and water. that's I don't want people touching his stuff (ok. so this is where I got a little perturbed. a dog...any dog...around any human should NOT be the one in charge. ever. humans have thumbs. dogs don't. end of story)
me: (slathering on the sly tone) my dogs would allow a toddler to take a bone out of their mouths.
him: just don't make him mad
me: (seething. tongue biting. choosing words)
him: (turning back and walking away)
wow. just wow. I had a dog who bit once. ONCE. I loved that dog like..well, not like a child...but alot, yet after training, training, training, evaluation and more training (all leading to the conclusion that he might be dangerous) I put him down. H was a super obediant dog that just thought he was too cool for school and could put his mouth on a human. INTOLERABLE. he died on my lap and I cried for months. yet, I stand behind my decision. a loose canon pitbull is nothing but a headline waiting to happen...and yet more impetus for tens of thousands more to die.
as for this husky. he'll OBVIOUSLY never stop being a cock because his owner, instead of WORKING TO FIX HIS UNACCEPTABLE BEHAVIOR...
defends it. if he won't train him ("he doesn't like when people touch his food"), won't let me train him...and I have to be near him...
he's getting a fucking kick.
I spent extra time tonight giving my dogs props...cause I walked right up to their bowls while they were eating and not only did they not flinch a muscle (or bite)...
my cookie spit the food IN HER MOUTH out into my hand.
as if to say: I love you, momma. you can have this food, too.
good girl. now go kill piton.
3 comments:
Whoa! I did NOT hear that story before! That blows big time about the dog bite and I agree with you about making sure a dog won't bite out of a bad attitude. I hope your pinky is better.
hahahaha
you hadn't heard of him biting me???
even more ironic then with the "reading rock pitons" on the car.
you must be psychic.
try to tell me what I'm thinking right now...
*rawr*
I had a Rottweiler that was.. well, let's just say for reference sake, a cupcake. I used to take him to shelters for abused and battered wives and their children. I literally had to almost no formal training, he just wanted to do things with me, and was unusually sensitive to childrens moods. he'd sniff out the most bummed out kid and just drown them in love, play with them and make funny noises at them.
He had no control issues at all, babies used to stick their hands in his mouth all of the time ad he's spit them out then clean their faces... he was yes, a dog but more like a friend. I miss him horribly, I dream about him sometimes, like he;s waiting for me or something. We were literally best friends. OUr companionship gotg to the point where people would wonder where Otto was when I showed up somewhere, he was just a good creature. Understood all sorts of words. Liked to hang out with people, loved children and other animals alike. Loved puppies, he;d flip them over and clean them and check them out....
he developed stomach cancer and I had to put him down... people used to ask me to train their dog... I said I didnt train Otto, maybe you should get a Rottweiler instead of a ( fill in the blank)
Yeah, god dogs are cool, bad dogs are pretty fucking scary indeed.
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