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"That is a really big dog."
There was no other way of saying it. That was a freaking huge dog it was easily the largest dog I had ever seen. Its head came up to my chest. It must have weighed something in the neighbourhood of 250lbs. I couldn't tell what breed it was. But I suspect it was the sort of breed that Mongols and Huns enjoyed setting lose on villages and bears and villages populated by bears. It's massive head swung around at gave me a look that made me feel a bit like a cartoon character that was turning into a walking drumstick.
"That is a really big dog." I repeated. It bore repeating.
Thus the problem of the situation crystallized. The dog, this canine interloper was sitting in MY seat. That was the seat that I sat in when I came over. It was comfortable, it was within reach of the PlayStation 2 paddle, had a nearby milk crate for easy foot resting. It also allowed a nice view of the apartment across the way where I had once witnessed a rather athletic display of affection between two lesbians. They weren't porn star lesbians but arousing none the less. My friend lives in a large house but the room we were in was rather small and held only two seats. Since this was the room were we got drunk and played video game floor sitting was not an option. Porn theatre floors were cleaner.
The dog's massive head swung back down and rested on his massive paws, which contained I assume, equally massive claws which were dwarfed only, I suspect, by his massive fangs. Seriously, if the Greeks and Romans got the afterlife right, I will be seeing that head again just before I start rolling a large boulder up and down a hill.
"Uh..." I stammered. I have known my friend long enough that like an old married couple, not a lot of communication needed to be vocalized. He understood instantly and of course over simplified the solution; "Just tell him to move." He said.
For instance, if he were in charge at NASA he would have told the crew of the Apollo 13 to "hold their breath". If he were around for the American Revolution he would have written King George a strongly worded note. He lives his life simple, and I respect him for that but I can't share in his tunnel of love vision.
I stared at the beast. Seriously this creature could very well be a precursor to the Wookie.
"You just have to show him who's the boss."
"He is, he eats raw meat and looks like he'd go for the groin, even if he was attacking from behind."
Then he explained pack mentality. You don't have to be tougher than the dog, you just had to make the dog THINK you were tougher than he was.
Dogs are dumb, but they can't be that dumb. All it has to do is look at the gifts evolution has bestowed on our two respective species to figure out what's what. Sure I have opposable thumbs and a larger cranium but he has jaws that could snap a parking meter in half. I'm sure I could come out on top in a game of chess or a tool building competition. Anything physical and I would bet on the mutt. Of course my widow would have to collect the winnings.
"Push him off." My friend says.
"You push him off." I counter.
He rolled his eyes and walked over and indeed shoved King Dog off MY seat. Of course it was covered in dog hair. I sat down slowly and carefully, like one slipping into a slightly chilled pool, my eyes on Cujo.
The dog was not happy about this turn of event. It didn't growl, glare or gripe, but it did stare right at me. He then turned his massive head to my friend and then back to me. Then it grinned. Anyone who knows dogs will tell you dogs can smile, they can grin friendly grins of "Hello! I've missed you!" or "Hello! I've pissed all over the rug!" This was not a friendly grin. This was the grin of a shark that is right underneath you, miles from shore. This was the grin of a Mob debt collector who is about to explain that while blood from a stone is a physical impossibility, blood from a human is surprisingly easy. The dog would wait before taking back what was once its own. It would wait until we were alone.
I was trapped! If I got up to piss I would lose the seat and have to be further humiliated into needing rescue. If my friend left I would be alone with the hound that ate the Hound of the Baskervilles.
Then inspiration hit me, the one weakness that every dog has and will have until the cockroaches are in charge. I got up and went downstairs to the front door and jingle jangled the leash I saw hanging there. The effect was dramatic. I heard the scrabble of his claws on the floor as he came barrelling down the stairs. He dashed into the hallway, which I had vacated then hid myself in the living room, and was startled to see his leash hanging on the hook. Where was the hairless ape that would take him to the park? He no doubt wondered. He was even more startled to see the hallway door close, trapping him in the vestibule. There he would stay until my friend's wife came home and set him free some two hours later.
I had outsmarted a dog and the sad thing was I heard an angle trumpet off in the distance announcing I had just peaked. I am also now the target of several PETA demonstrations; apparently the cur was on their mailing list.
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Like This? Rate It!
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Side-splitting
25 votes
5.0
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26 Comments on "Man’s Best Friend ain’t no Friend of Mine."
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John Hargrave 128,742  73
01/29/2003 03:58 PM
Maybe the dog just wanted to play Playstation. You ever think of that? Hah? HAH? YOU INSENSITIVE DOG-LOATHER!?
Funny article, by the way.
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G i b l B e o t n N k u y g g e t 12,005 12
01/29/2003 04:45 PM
So, what you're saying is that you made the big dog run out on the porch?
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Lila's Sneezepoot 4,643 11
01/29/2003 05:21 PM
an angle trumpet
Math instrument?
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Freeze Dried Instant Coffee 10,327 12
01/29/2003 05:24 PM
You should've offered the dog a beer. He would've gladly given up the seat for a beer. Dogs like beer. Especially really big dogs like that one.
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salvage: Sassy like the magazine 28,986 12
01/29/2003 05:40 PM
huh shoulda spell checked it. Then again it wouldn't be me without a typo or dozen.
Not the sort of dog you'd want to get drunk, mean drunk kind of dog.
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Freeze Dried Instant Coffee 10,327 12
01/29/2003 05:46 PM
I'm sure he would've appreciated a nice t-bone steak or maybe a rotisserie chicken. The way to a dogs heart is through his stomach...or is that a man? I can never remember which.
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salvage: Sassy like the magazine 28,986 12
01/29/2003 05:49 PM
I swear, this dog, it plays the dumb mutt around everyone else but me. For me it does this total Damian thing, its eyes glow red and ichor drips from it's fangs.
Given a chance, it would not hump my leg but rather amputate it.
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Chickens 286,208 61
01/29/2003 10:31 PM
What color was the dog?
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Freeze Dried Instant Coffee 10,327 12
01/30/2003 11:07 AM
The dog probably just wanted a hug and maybe someone to throw his chew toy so he could go fetch it.
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salvage: Sassy like the magazine 28,986 12
01/30/2003 11:10 AM
Probably a belgian. Look like a St Bernard only black?
Look you of all people should get the whole hell hound thing. It's from Satan's puppy mill. It's evil in dog shape. If it were Marmaduke it would have torn the kid's throats out and burried the bodies in the backyard next to the mailman's corpse. Its breed is malevolence.
The dog probably just wanted a hug and maybe someone to throw his chew toy so he could go fetch it.
Its chew toy is a baby's arm.
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Freeze Dried Instant Coffee 10,327 12
01/30/2003 11:27 AM
Maybe you should've tried reading him some Tolstoy. He may be a large dog, but he might appreciate someone reading him some high-brow material.
Of course if that didn't work, you could always opt for the garden variety smut magazine and show him some hooters.
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Photo Nazi 10,666 13
01/30/2003 05:40 PM
Maybe he just wanted a look at the lesbians next door, too.. Fair's fair, you bastard.
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salvage: Sassy like the magazine 28,986 12
01/30/2003 07:01 PM
Yeah!
Real live lesbians are a rarity.
Of course those two were nothing like the ones you see in the picture shows...
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Yodish 1,800 12
01/31/2003 10:28 AM
Big clicks for you, great article!
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G i b l B e o t n N k u y g g e t 12,005 12
01/31/2003 10:41 AM
Maybe it was Rick Moranis?
"Because once, I turned into a dog and salvage helped me. Thank you."
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salvage: Sassy like the magazine 28,986 12
01/31/2003 10:54 AM
When I worked as a dish pig at a local resteraunt the pizza cook was crazy about Ghostbusters and knew all of Rick Moranisis' lines word for word. When it got busy he used to say:
"Gozer the Traveller will come in one of the pre-chosen forms. During the rectification of the Vuldronaii the Traveller came as a
very large and moving Torb. Then of course in the third reconciliation of the last of the Meketrex supplicants they chose a new form for him, that of a Sloar. Many Shubs and Zuuls knew what it was to be roasted in the depths of the Sloar that day I can tell you.
under his breath as he threw the pizzas in the oven.
It was the night shifts that I feared most.
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salvage the sea-donkey 28,986 12
02/08/2003 05:14 PM
Well there does seem to be a lot of them in bars I frequent. It's always "Hey my name's sal." and then there all "I'm gay" and I'm all "But you were kissing that guy last week." and then she's all "Yeah well I just found out yesterday." and I'm all "Really?" but by that point she's gone!
Not only are they lesbians, but they're ninja lesbians.
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Neepneep, tribute to trae 35,066 15
02/09/2003 01:05 AM
My teacher is a lesbian. Here in NZ there have been 5 dog attacks in the last week, that alot for a country of 3million. they include a little girl who got the tip of her nose bitten off and a little girl whose cheeks and flesh and stuff were ripped off. a while ago a little boy's eye was left dangling from its socket.
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salvage the sea-donkey 28,986 12
02/09/2003 05:00 AM
Hmmm I think my dog story was funnier.
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