Monday, January 16, 2006

It's my birthday... It's my birthday... Ba-dum-ba-dum-tup.

Or something.

That's right... I'm 21 (plus or minus 12) years old today! I'll let you do the maths.


Still looking for a puppy. Of course, no luck. Went to the Ramsey County Shelter for Companion Animals (dude, how much more P.C. can you bloody-well GET!) And they had two little rat-dog puppies (please!) and three adult dogs, one of whom was already adopted. And to be honest... As a life-long dog owner, you really WANT a puppy. Not just 'cause they're cute and all (although that's a good reason all in and of itself) but because you really need to get the little bugger's YOUNG in order to make sure they're trained well... Nothing like inheriting a three-year old dog with a million bad habits! (Before you get upset, or something... Think about it... These are the dogs that the owners GOT RID OF, and it's ALWAYS due to the owner being an idiot, it's not the dog's fault.)

I don't mind if we get a mutt... In fact, I'd prefer to get a mutt. Why? All the weird defects from the in-breeding of "A.K.C. approved dogs" is helped by a little genetic-mixing... Anyhoo... We're also looking for a "wolfy" sort of breed-mix. You know... Something like an Alaskan Malamute-cross or a Husky-cross or whatever... Big... 50-100+ lbs... Heft! That's what a person needs in a dog.

This may anger you...

But I think that little-rat-dogs are useless! What's the bloody point? Get a fucking CAT if you want a little animal. Cats are cleaner... Use litter-boxes... And eat less... Plus they don't fucking YAP every minute of the bloody day!

If you get a DOG, then DO it... Get something that's almost as big as you... That loves you, and protects you, and rips the face off of a dangerous burglar! I'm not kidding! That's why Golden Retrievers, although beautiful dogs, are on my "useless list!" If you study the case-history of that particular breed... There's never been a case of a Golden Retriever attacking a human, unless it's been rabid!

What's the point? Rapist comes into your house, and the dog wags it's tail, and then calmly watches you get raped and killed??????? Is that a fucking dog? NO SIR/MA'AM!

Case and point... We had this great dog... His name was Arthur. He was a Black-lab Malamute cross. He weighed 85lbs, and NEVER barked. Never. Anyhoo... I was away at college... And my Mother was home alone. The front-door was open, but the screen-door was locked. It was about 3:00am, and someone came to the front of the house... This dark figure was wearing a hoody, and had the hood pulled forward to hide his face.

Meanwhile, in the back bedroom... Mother is awoken by a low growl. Arthur is laying at the foot of her bed, where he used to sleep, and his head's up, and he's looking down the hall. Mother gets up, grabs the baseball bat (that I bought for her for protection) and together, they walk down the hall. She gets to the front door. Sees the guy on the stoop, and his hand is rattling the door. She says, calmly, "What are you doing?" The guy looks up, sees the bat, and continues to rattle the door.

Meanwhile... Arthur is just standing next to Mother. He hasn't made a noise. You see... She was calm, thus... The dog was calm. Of course, at the guy's disdain for the bat, Mother becomes nervous. She repeats her question in a more shaky tone, "What do you want?"

The man continues rattling the door trying to force it open.

Arthur picks up on my mother's tone. I'm sure he thinks something like, "Mom in danger!"

A VERY low growl begins deep in his chest. (Malamutes have VERY big chests bred for pulling... Thus a growl sounds like 100 choirs of demons in the lowest of the nine-circles of hell.)

The man suddenly stops. He can't see the dog... Arthur was black except for a white chest, and that wasn't in view, nothing but darkness... With this deep, deadly growl coming from somewhere next to my Mother.

The man begins to back away from the door. Arthur isn't finished... Arthur stands up, putting his front legs on the door, and breaks the door from it's hinges... Thrusting himself out the front door... Bounding down the front walk... Chasing after the man... Arthur LEAPS....

Knocking the man forward onto the ground.

Does he bite him? Oh no... Arthur doesn't like the taste of human flesh.... No... Arthur stands on the man's back growling and drooling over the man's exposed back. The man starts to cry... He's never actually SEEN this dog... The hood has obscured his vision, and all he can feel is this heavy weight... Hearing the growling only inches from the back of his neck... The man is crying.

Mother... With a shaky voice says, "Arthur. Come here."

With a final growl, Arthur steps off the man's back... And calmly trots back to the house. The man runs... Runs far and fast... Never to be seen again.

Mother and Arthur returned to bed, after setting the screen-door to the side of the stoop, and closing the front door.

That. That is a dog.

Yeah, so... Anyhoo... That's what I want again. A dog.

So... It's my birthday, and My Lady made a few photos with my camera.

Me and my cake, that My Lady picked out.

Close-up on the cake

For gifts, I received Expandable cooking tongs (10'' to 14'' length), a coffee-thermos-urn-thinggy to keep my coffee warm, a new duvet, $15.00 iTunes music credits, $50.00 in Barnes and Noble gift cards, and a new watch band for my broken watch.


I'm off... I think Fi and I are heading to the Dubliner in St. Paul on University Ave. tonight. There's no live-music, as it's a Monday... But Darren, the bartender supreme is working... So that will be fun! Everyone can come. But there's no "specific" party, or anything... So... Don't feel obligated.

See ya readers... Either at the pub, or here tomorrow!

-- Slàinte --