Wednesday, August 15, 2007
3 to 1. Sounds fair to me.
If you'll forgive me for sounding too self-centered, I'd like to talk about myself for a moment. Sorry if this runs a bit long, but it's a pretty cool story.
First, a little history. A few years back, I was living in a yard with around 25 other dogs. It wasn't a big yard, and there was a very limited amount of food. I think the dude that kept us was kinda crazy, too. We dogs fought constantly for food and for territory. I can't exactly remember when, but I even got a couple of broken ribs at one point.
Well, anyway, one day, along come the cops. They put us all in the back of these trucks and hauled us off to the pound. We were all underweight. I was about 40 pounds (compared to 70 now). Yet I was in better shape than any of the rest. In fact, all the other dogs were in such bad shape, they had to be executed.
Fortunately, the next-door neighbor of the crazy guy had met me and was very concerned when the cops took us all away. He immediately went to the pound and bailed me out. He couldn't keep me, but he wanted to save my life. A couple of days later he brought over this guy he worked with, ostensibly, to become my new human.
I put on my best "Please take me home aren't I so cute" look, and hoped for the best. Well, long story short, he took me home. And, it's kinda like I won the dog lottery. My humans treat me good. I get full access to the whole house. I sleep with them, sit at their feet constantly, and have a doggie door so I never have to "hold it."
At first, my new humans would take me walking, and we'd run into another dog, and my humans would think I was scared because the hair on my back would go up.
"Oh no. Look at how scared he is! Poor baby."
They didn't realize that I do that when I'm pissed. I wasn't getting frightened. I was getting ready for some shit.
Anyway, on to the point of the story.
What you should know is that, with humans, I'm the most loving, obedient, sweet dog you'll ever meet. I have perfected cuteness. When I'm with you people, I want nothing more than to be petted, or to snuggle, or to patiently wait for any treats you're willing to offer. I will sit in the middle of the floor and let human babies pull my ears and poke my eyes. I LIVE for human affection. And I hate other dogs. (Exceptions to all you wonderful dog readers of my blog)
So the neighbor human across the street, having experienced my adorable cuteness, frequently tries to get MY human to let her take me on a walk with her dogs.
My human always says "He doesn't get along well with other dogs."
Well, today, she asked again. "It'll be good for Pancho... let's give it a try." she said.
So my human, somewhat reluctantly hooked me up to the leash and brought me outside.
We head out toward the street where those three scumbag shepherds are waiting, crouched. These are the same dogs who mock me and bark whenever they sense my presence.
I get about halfway down the driveway and we all start growling.
The neighbor lady takes my leash and, not knowing what is about to happen, moves me closer to the other dogs.
These sheperds are big, mind you. Bigger than me. But they have no idea who they're dealing with. These pure-bred bitches never had to fight for food just so they wouldn't starve to death.
And I was about to give them a big, yummy serving of whoopass.
We got about a foot and a half away from each other and I went OFF. I showed those three pussies my teeth and snapped twice. Caught a piece of the female. I wanted to hurt them, sooooo bad. But the neighbor lady pulled me back.
I think I communicated quite clearly to those dogs. Here's what they now know:
1. I don't like dogs. Especially you bitches.
2. Don't witness my affection for humans from afar - and start thinking that I won't put my teeth in your ass. I will.
3. Clearly I have far more fighting experience than even the largest of dogs in this neighborhood. Especially you, tough guy.
4. One dog... or twenty-four dogs... that's still less than I used to fight every day. You think because there are three of you, I'm gonna get scared? Oh please.
5. If, even for a second, I think you're a threat... you better pray I'm on a leash, or you are going to have a very, very bad day.