Sweet Canine o' Mine

With all of our friends reproducing, my wife and I wanted something we could talk about while those annoying new parents pontificated about their human bundles of joy. So, we got a dog. Our canine bundle of joy is a Boston Terrier named Sadie. She even looks like me.

Before Sadie, we had two cats. Laugh all you want. It's not because I'm one of those freaky cat people. It's because cats are so fucking easy. They don't harass you, they don't make noise, they don't bite, you don't have to walk them, you barely have to feed them, and you don't have to pick up their shit. Essentially, cats are like plants with fuzzy little paws.

Dogs, on the other hand, are a pain in the ass. They can't do anything without you. They're like the retarded cousin your parents made you take care of when you were a kid, despite your tantrums and tears. Of course, when we got our dog, my wife picked the craziest one we saw. This Boston Terror is like a huge rat after a speedball of cocaine and crystal meth. She jumps and bites and barks and humps. But, that's the price you pay to keep from having children.

My wife assigned me the job of dog walker (hey, it's better than dog bather). I actually don't mind walking Sadie. She pisses, I smoke; she attacks joggers, I smoke. It's relaxing. The only thing I don't like is picking up her shit. So, I don't. Sadie likes to dump in the same spot every time (she's obsessive compulsive just like her Pops). After about a month of walks, that spot looked like the bottom of the makeshift toilet in a porta-potty at an outdoor music festival. Did I mention that spot's right in front of my neighbor's house?

My neighbors are renters. They're also rednecks. In the hierarchy of people I like in my neighborhood, redneck renters rank below vagrants and sex offenders. So, I relished seeing my dog's feces all over their lawn. The other night though, we got busted.

Sadie was in mid-shit when this shirtless redneck renter came out. He was not happy with me. It seems that all the poop on his lawn had upset him a bit. From what he said, he'd stepped in Sadie's droppings several times and was unable to enjoy a warm summer's eve on his hammock because of the odor. I told him that this was the first time Sadie had shit on his lawn and that I always pick up her shit, except for this time because I forgot a bag.

He told me he had video of Sadie shitting on his lawn every day for the past 3 weeks and he also had video of me not picking it up. He made a good case. Once Sadie finished her dump, the redneck renter told me to pick up the shit with my hands. I said that there was no fucking way I would pick up shit with my hands in the neighborhood where I own a home, unlike some people! He put me in a headlock, held my face dangerously close to the shit, and punched me a few times in the gut. It was like high school all over again, except it hurt more. I then quietly picked up the shit with my hands. Sadie and I limped away and vowed not to speak of this incident ever again.

Needless to say, we haven't walked in front of the redneck renter's house since then. We started going far from home on varying routes so that when Sadie shits and I don't pick it up, we won't get in trouble. I know it might be easier to pick up the shit, but that's just not me.

On one of our new routes, we came upon a house with 12 dogs of all sizes locked up behind a fence on the front lawn. Sadie knew what she would have to do. She taunted those bitches and studs like she's never taunted in her life. She barked and yelped and ran and clawed. I assume she was saying something like, "Look at you assholes all locked up. I'm free and you're not. Suck it!" I was so proud.

Eventually though, the dogs on the lawn had enough. The biggest one, a Great Dane, figured out how to pick the lock and let all the others out. They pounced on Sadie like a pack of, well, wild dogs. I tried to control them. Imagine me standing in the middle of 12 rabid beasts trying to grab my little lap dog. It didn't work. After about 20 minutes of beating on her from all angles, they let up and scattered in every direction. Sadie and I once again limped away and vowed not to speak of this incident ever again.

These days, Sadie and I have changed our ways. I've started carrying plastic bags and picking up shit. Sadie has stopped taunting packs of feral canines. We both learned our lesson, together. That's the thing about dogs. They can share in common experiences with you: they can act like assholes with you, they can piss off neighbors with you, they can get their asses kicked with you, and they can put their tails between their legs with you. Come to think of it, it's kind of like having children.