Yesterday was a nothing day as I just lazed around the house, lacking the energy to do much of anything. Despite feeling like shit, when beer o’clock rolled around, I readied myself for some excitement in town. I didn’t have far to go to find it.
Not far from my house, a selfish neighbor lets their dogs run loose despite having a fenced yard. Making matters worse, the dogs are very aggressive. Usually, by standing my ground and barking back, they’ll keep their distance. Perhaps they sensed my weakness yesterday because they came right at me. There are three of them, but it’s the smaller one that goes into attack mode most. The other two have his back but generally don’t get up close like their little brother. So, yesterday, I had to counterattack, yelling and kicking to chase them off. Cowards that they are, they did eventually flee. And then I realized I was having a breathing attack. I couldn’t catch my breath, felt light-headed, and was worried that I might pass out. In the past, I’ve just sat down for a bit and rested until normalcy returned. I didn’t have that option with the dogs around to take advantage of my vulnerability, so I continued to make my way down the road.
My strength gradually returned as I walked the highway, but my mood remained dour. I stopped at Sit-n-Bull and had a light dinner consisting of two chicken wings and some coleslaw. After my meal, I went to Sloppy Joe’s to rehydrate. Troy was already there, and before long, Ken and Jim joined me at my table.
After a few beers, the three amigos left for Alley Cats, but I opted to stay behind. I still wasn’t feeling strong and wanted to stick around in the Maze, so I could get home quick and easy when the time came. I hung out in Wet Spot for my final hour chatting with Daddy Dave, who just turned 81. Damn, I hope if I’m still around, I’m going as strong as he is.
I suppose it is newsworthy to mention that I bought zero lady drinks during my evening out.
I didn’t cough as much and slept better last night, so there was that to be thankful for. When I got up, I did my usual internet strolling, then decided to lie back down for a bit. Lucky was sprawled across the bed, and when I tapped him to move over, he growled at me. That irked me, so I tapped him with a pillow to urge him along and he went into full attack mode. He didn’t bite me this time because I kept the pillow between us, but I have no doubt he would have if given the chance. I whacked him several times in pillow fight fashion before he finally retreated.
Alright, some of my commenters had warned me that a dog who attacks his owner can not be trusted and should gotten rid of. I decided to give Lucky another chance, and he has now blown it. It’s not in me to kill him or have him put down, but he is no longer welcome in my house. I get that Lucky has an aggressive nature, but I’m the top dog and if he is too stupid to understand that, he can be king of the empty yard.
For all of you who have served in the military, know you are honored and appreciated and I wish you the best this Veterans Day.
Speaking of Facebook, it provided this memory from 2016:
And my clock says it is Friday, so tonight I will attend the SOB at La Oficina. And Swan will be joining me this time. That will enhance the event for sure.
A little honey is good for you:
I’ll have something special to share here tomorrow; see you then!
I decided to give Lucky another chance, and he has now blown it.
To me, “now blown it” means “his ass is gone.” I’m surprised you’re keeping Lucky at all. Are you sure you won’t consider doing some of the obedience training from the videos I’d recommended? The current solution feels like kicking the can down the road, not a real solution. I say either train him right so he really knows who’s boss (he obviously doesn’t know) or give him to a shelter. How’d he end up on your bed, anyway? That’s a privileged spot for a dog who’s supposedly in the dog house.
The continuing breathing problems are worrisome. I hope you see the docs and get that sorted out soon, especially with a possible operation in the works. In response to something you wrote in a different comment thread: yes, I remember being there in the Itaewon area when that hill winded you. But you really improved after that, and you improved even more once you moved to the PI. I do hope it’s not COPD; I’ve mentioned before how scary it was to find out about Leonard Nimoy’s having succumbed to it a full twenty years after he’d quit smoking. That shit just sits and bides its time.
That clock showing the days of the week can’t show you when it’s beer o’clock, alas. I guess you need a second clock for that.
What a shit day at the office. But in terms of your legacy you actually changed history by proving dogs are not our best friend. So well done. You simplify didn’t make him sit up and beg enough. One has to treat dogs like one treats one’s woman: make it very very clear you don’t really want them in the house past 11.
Seriously though I wouldn’t be putting up with those dogs on the street. Can you Macafee them?
Shalom, John, shalom.
Though the Talmud in Baba Kama states that it is permissible to keep certain kinds of dogs that are useful for preventing infestations of vermin, it also states that dogs must be kept chained and that those who “raise” (the Hebrew word used here is the same as the one used for rearing children) dogs are cursed. I advise you to re-read your Torah as it is the law, and I am certain you are not a law breaker.
Goldberg, I’ve been breaking the laws of all the world’s major religions since I was fifteen years old. Too late to change now!
Dan, you need the shit days to make the rest of them more appreciated. Lucky has always been a bad combination of rebellious and stupid. Quite the opposite of Buddy.
As for the street dogs, I have fantasized about different ways to kill them. I’m not familiar with the “Macafee” method, though.
Kev, well, he’s out of the house–out of sight, out of mind. Anyone who might want him is welcome to him. I honestly think Lucky is too stupid and too aggressive to be trained like the dogs in those videos. Maybe if I had started as a pup, but after five years with me, he still hasn’t figured out I’m the boss. And there are no shelters around here–dogs are just abandoned and left to fend for themselves on the street. I can’t reduce myself to that level of cruelty. As for access to the bed, he snuck in while the door was open and then didn’t want to leave.
Yes, in the early days, my condition was much worse. That’s why this recent upsurge is so concerning. I think maybe my issue isn’t related to COPD per se but rather a virus that exacerbates the situation. I’m taking some meds that will hopefully help. However I am destined to die; I hope that it does not involve gasping for air.
As for the clock, the sun’s long afternoon shadows tell me when beer o’clock has arrived!
No, I’m sure Lucky is trainable. Those (and other) videos show some hard-case dogs, and they all eventually respond to training. I think that, if you’re going to keep him, you need to train him. That, or dispose of him—however you choose to interpret “dispose.”
Lucky would feed a family of five.
Even if kept in the yard, he could nip someone or get loose.
If he bites anyone in the yard, they are someone who is where they shouldn’t be…
You’re correct, of course. But only in the hypothetical sense.
You’ve been in-country long enough to understand that WHAT happened is not so important as WHO it happened to.
Snotty rich kid sticks hand through fence to taunt angry dog and gets nipped = kid’s parents hound kano dog owner for payment regardless of fault.
Remember, you’re “only a renter” and a foreigner. Your rights here come with a double asterisk.
Just saying…
Yes, I’m aware of all that. Gonna manage things as best as I am able.