Thursday, June 29, 2006

A New Hound

Well, well. It appears my brother has followed through with his threats about acquiring a canine to lurk about our abode. Let it be known that I am no fan of hounds. They lack the basic intelligence to plan and execute a well-placed swat on an animal some 20 times its own size, as a cat does. A cat is able to do this because its ego is at least as large as the animal it deigns to ambush. I can respect such a beast.

The best way to describe this dog? It is a dingo. All black except for a white cross-shaped mark upon its chest, like a crusading wild dog. Its three redeeming features: 1. It looks much like a smallish Czech shepherd. 2. It has already proved its capacity to frighten small children while at the animal shelter. 3. It is black, and thus I shall be sure to walk it often at night. There is nothing that so stirs the primal human "fight or flight" instinct as to see a black dingo materialise where there was once naught but vapour.

I was able to tell exactly when my brother left for work this morning, due to the plaintive whinings and barks that immediately emanated from the kitchen. The kitchen has become a kind of dog gauntlet that I must traverse in my clean and pressed work clothes. This morning, (the first morning, mind you!) the fiend left an obstacle: a challenge for me. My brother shall have some training issues to attend to. I opened the door to the upstairs as I went into the kitchen. "What's up there? That's right! Not a whack to the rear! Go get it! Good dog!" A cat would never have fallen for that. But then, there is never a need for such tactics with a cat. I was able to use the kitchen in peace, and upon my departure, I opened the upstairs door as I closed the door leading to the outside. Like an airlock for hounds.

Returning home from work, I find my brother sitting in his chair, and his new compadre lying next to him. It had been a naughty dog during the day, as well. But that is an entirely different story. My door was closed and clearly labeled as strictly and permanently off-limits to hounds. Detestatio canes vitium non est!

~ Geoff

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