Wednesday, December 7, 2016
The Dog Cure for Dip Shit
As another Lame Cherry exclusive in matter anti matter.
I was thinking of dogs I have known since a child, and wondered why in the hell I ever wanted one. I conclude it was because I knew that my dog of course would walk on water and not be like these other dogs which I think is one reason Americans did not have illegal invaders ruining their lives, because they had all these worthless dogs........because everyone had dogs.
Take for example Sargent, who was my dog, but my sister stole that rotten little thing. Sarge was a chihuahua terrier cross. I remember dad bringing him home in his coat pocket as he was that tiny.
He bit me on the lip as a child and I still have the scar. That I think is his major effort in life, except getting covered in hog shit, and running through the house and getting onto my sister's clean bed......Mom is still displeased over that one.
One day when he was about 10, he killed a rat. First thing the dog ever did really, but he was so proud, and never repeated the task.
He had the softest little head, but his body was mange and he stunk. I can not say I ever missed that dog, no matter how hard I tried to win him over or be nice, he was always a mean little SOB, like most Mexicans.
Then there was Pal, the neighbors German Shepherd. He was a three legged dog, as Pal did not stay home and another neighbor caught him in a trap. I do not recall that dog ever doing anything in life either. Just was there like a door step.
When he died Little Wilbur cried. I think we liked that, but probably though, too bad Little Wilbur was not the one who died.
Into this was another neighbor dog, King. Some black long haired mongrel, who never did anything either. Just sort of was there, except when he was pissing on my leg marking territory. The Russians had that dog, and he lived forever taking up space, but was replaced by this Basset that bayed all the time. That was his accomplishment in life too.
Their relatives had these unnamed dogs, who were black and white rat terriers. She should have been called peoplerriers as all they did was terrorize us. You could not ride bikes or horses past their place without those three damn curs chasing you a quarter mile down the road, trying to kill you.
Our other neighbors had a hobby of shooting those little bastards, which sort of ended the problem. They had to do that twice as replacements showed up.
The shootists, were Irish. They had their own hell on earth mongrels who literally ripped holes in people's tires that came in their yard. I can't say they accomplished a great deal, except keeping the riff raff out of the yard......but they were the riff raff at times so the dogs did not much good. Good part was the father threatened to shoot his son in law if he sat foot in the yard, because the dogs must have liked him.
Then there was my worthless uncle's dog named Tippy. I swear if you ever seen Chuck Schumer, that was Tippy. It was some kind of Ozzie shepherd, whose only accomplishment was growling at you as you road bike at their place.
Think uncle shot him.....well he took old Tip to the junk yard to dispatch him, sort of wounded him, and Tip beat him home. Did not do much good as Tip bit the bullet the next shot.
My beloved Uncle had a yellow lab called Sandy. I hate labs really, because Sandy would not leave you alone. That dog would pester you with corn cobs, bones.......hell anything that was not nailed down to have you throw it for her. I would try and be nice, but Geez Louise, how much disgusting misery can a kid put up with on a 90 degree humid day with slimy dog slop, dirty corn cobs all over you.
......and yes I was worried I would stroke the dog out in the heat, so I would stop, but that dog would not leave me alone. She never wanted to be petted.....just play fetch and coat you with a glaze of saliva slop.
My brother's friend had a dog named Ben. Ben was a black lab. Hunting with Ben was a constant in Ben constantly chased a deer into the next county in the first five minutes, and then would return a half hour later to pant and walk behind you the rest of the day, as you broke rushes for him.
I really hate labs, but not as much as those farm dogs.
Then there was the ranch dog. I did not know his name but he scared the shit out of me, and worse out of my brother. It was a Great Pyrenees, and bigger than a mountain, He was supposed to sleep with the sheep in a tent, but the owners fed him at the house, and he thought people were better company than those damn sheep.
My brother went out into the night during deer season to relieve himself after his 6 pack quota of beer and was greeted by this dog jumping up on him to his terror.
That dog I really liked as he was nice......that other son of a cur they had would bite you and chase you around.
That reminds me of the good deed I did in some neighbors horses were out, so I went up to tell them. Of course they were not home, but their duo of labs, a yellow and black were there. They were nice enough to let me get out and knock on the door, but then they had me, and the black one distracted me as the yellow kept circling and hovering by the driver door. I circled and hoped I would not be ambushed and made it inside the car with all of my limbs.
We went into the hinterlands one day looking for some machinery my dad had purchased before he died, and came upon this place that looked like the Legend of Sleepy Hollow. It sort of was a cross between a dope dealer location and a car theft chop shop.....or it was just some rubes who liked the rustic look.
I seem to recall this Hound of Hell, a big black thing the size of a Toyota there barking. The thing is, he had dug and chewed a hole out of the garage, so it looked the bowels of hell, with mud all over the walls, and this pathway that looked like it killed and dragged beef cows or stupid people who got out of cars into the den to dine on.
Oh yes, my brother in laws dogs, one was Buster. A stupid mongrel cross who ran like a raped ape while hunting, and the shock collar that was defective in shocking that dog, so it never stopped, but just yipped a great deal. The brow in law shot that dog, because I think he almost ate his kids.
Other dog was, Jet.......a sort of Collie lab, who was a nice dog. I liked Jet.......then they got Mercedes or something and that dog they used to have to choke off at that lab tried to kill them. Probably would have made a great deal of money on the border tracking Mexicans now.
Then there was our dope dealer neighbor who had two Rottweilers that got out. He showed up asking about them, but I knew nothing of them, until of course I smelled on a south wind the scent of burned hair one morning.......yeah the other neighbor bagged them.
We had a California neighbor who had lots of Golden Retrievers that ran around. The one growled at me and both ruined my duck hunt one morning that I am still pissed off about. None of them lasted long as I think three different neighbors tuned them up to the afterlife. The expensive dogs now just sit in the kennel.
Lastly in this was the Kid's dogs, some culls born of Queen I think was her name....more Russian this was. I came by trapping one day, and the pair of them were tailing a cow that just had a baby calf. I ran them off and told the Kid what was up, and to keep them damn dogs off his cattle. He was more stupid than most people, so I do not know if that ever sank in.
I have had good dogs, buddy dogs. Dandy was out of control on pheasants. Dixie was the best hunting dog in the nation, until my brother ruined her, and then there was Ruby..........a dog that loved life and was content on being Ruby while hunting or anything else. I just had to learn to hunt Ruby's way, and to try to keep her from loving rabbits and kittens to death.
Then there were my brother's dogs. They ate shit literally. Came out of Nebraska and learned it in the kennel. That was about their only accomplishment that I can recall.
Seems odd after all of that, that I still hope God gives us a hunting dog again.....hope though ended up in Puntz, who is our watch and attack cat, who scampers around like a puppy following me, when she is not acting like a cat the other 20% of the time.
I honestly though have witnessed so few good dogs wherever I go, that I wonder what the hell people have those things for. I think in most cases it is people who are idiots and think just because a dog stays with them, that must mean something on this planet does not think they are a dip shit.