Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Blog: Escaped

PitbullA happy pitbull. (click for source)

~ I'm getting a lot done today. My barber's appointment got rescheduled. I worked on the car. I finished my spring advertisements. I aired some winter out of the house. I jammed to some tunes. (I think it's productive.) I got trampled by a pitbull. I wrote this blog. I brushed my... Yes, you read that right.

~ My windows are a pain to open and close. This time of year, when the bugs are still absent and the weather's warm, I just prop the doors open. Fresh air = joy. Having done this I was cranking up some "My Chemical Romance" in the living room. I heard a noise in the kitchen, and before I could poke my head through the door a pitbull lunged out! Shit! It's that dog from across the street who is always underfed, un-watered, unloved, and worst of all constantly getting unchained. He takes these opportunities to 1.) get the exercise he so badly needs running around like a loon, and 2.) consider getting the food he so badly needs by eating one of the neighbors or their pets. The well equipped animal control patrol is afraid to approach it. I was equipped with a laptop and a stereo.

~ Today, he was in loon mode, but I was keeping my distance in case he's bipolar. The greatest distance I could keep, however, was not far enough to avoid the objects his frantic tail batted about. I went to the door and ordered him out. He trounced out of the bathroom and actually considered my humble suggestion, but if a dog can look like he just remembered he was on a mission he did. Back to the bathroom he went. He was checking out every room with great speed, but the bathroom warranted the most inspection. Aha! Today's escape was driven by thirst and he knew about toilets. Unfortunately for him, I'm that rare man in a thousand who never leaves the seat or the lid up. Unfortunately for me, I'm also a man who takes pity on vicious thirsty dogs.

~ I cautiously approach the door. He's making sure my sink doesn't leak. I gingerly enter the room. He sniffs at the moist air seeping between the seat and the lid. I carefully lift them both. He eagerly dives in. I escape to the front door and begin calling him out again. After a long drink he emerges, but he only crosses half the living room before heading back for another long drink. Poor guy. I went to the kitchen to see if I had anything to feed him when I heard people calling out back. First of all, since when did his owners care enough to go looking for him? Secondly, why are they out back? They live out front.

~ It's not their dog. This guy belongs to the girl across the alley. She's standing out there with an empty milk jug, completely baffled by his disappearing act. There's something I have to explain about this girl. She's sexy and seventeen. She moved in with her Aunt and Uncle across the alley last summer, and I've been trying to avoid her ever since. Nothing good can come from me talking to an underage girl who's that pretty. Fate, however, seems intent to bait me into jail. There've been too many encounters already. Most of them go like this: I turn around to unwittingly meet her eyes. A smile escapes my lips before I can stop it. She smiles back. I turn away and slap myself. Today, her crazy dog is in my house.

~ I finally get him outside, but he jumps into the yard next door. As she comes around to the gate, I explain what he was after.

~ "Dumb dog!" she groaned. "I was giving him water when he took off."

~ It turns out that she lives elsewhere now. She still comes by to feed and water the dog. She had to carry him home, which was funny to see because he out-weighs her. While she was pinning him up I realized it was time for me to disappear before more conversation ensued. As I entered the house I looked back. She waived and shouted an apology. A smile escaped my lips.


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