Dog Rage

Remember this happened in 1999. The dog I have now is a fat, lazy food-aholic.

You guessed it. It’s that DOG again.

After I got home today, still wearing heels and nice work clothes, I took Annie out before she had a chance to pee in the house. While she was doing her business I bent over to take a look at the coneflower that was starting to bloom. All of a sudden Annie jerked the leash from my hand and I fell into the flower garden. She had spied our neighbor’s chocolate lab and was gone in a flash. After I tunneled out of the flowers, I chased her yelling, “Come back here, you stupid bitch!”

The neighbors were entertained as I chased that dog from one end of the Labrador’s fence to the other. When I would get near enough to grab her, she would dart again. I had the idea that I would get her to chase me as I led her home. This worked for about ten steps. That’s when I lost one of my shoes and nearly fell again.

She caught me at a disadvantage and jumped on me with her muddy paws, then pulled at my clothes. While I was putting on my shoe, she lunged at me, caught hold of my brand new sweater, and pulled a hole in it. That made me even madder. I lunged for her but missed as she ran back to see the lab. This spectacle went on for ten minutes before I managed to get close enough to grab the end of her leash. When I tried to lead her home, she sat down like a stubborn-assed donkey and would not budge. I picked up that grinning, 40-pound, hair bag and started to carry her home. I was infuriated with this animal and wanted to kill her, but she was licking my face and biting at my hair. “It’s too late for affection, dog. You’re done for!”

I huffed and puffed angrily up the hill with the dog slipping lower and lower with each step. I could hardly walk as I dragged her between my legs. So much for new panty hose, they’re ruined.

Bedraggled, I reached the house only to find that my teenaged daughter had locked me out. She thought it was funny as she watched from the window. I did NOT think it was funny. At every door I tried, my daughter met me laughing hysterically, as I held onto that idiot dog with all my might. I was trying to keep Annie from biting me, while I banged on the locked door and yelled, “Let me in, or you won’t date until you’re thirty!” After making several threats that could have brought Family and Children’s Services out for a visit, she finally opened the door. My heart was pounding wildly -- partly from anger and partly from exhaustion. I lost all my religion as I gave that girl of mine the lecture of a lifetime on why a daughter does NOT want to lock her mother out of the house.

I WILL find a home for this beast! Do you hear me?! Even if I have to call the pound, I will get rid of this dog!

God help us all!