Friday, September 28, 2007

That dog


I have a dog. It is retarded. It is a cat in a dogs body, I think. This dog will not come to you when you call it. If not moved physically, it will languish on the couch all day long. It will not approach its food or water until everyone is asleep and it is alone. I hear it lapping water and munching dog food late at night. When it is necessary to move the dog, that is... to take it outside so it can do its doodie, one must physically drag the dog to the door. Either that, or pick up the dog and carry it. When I say drag, I mean the dog is almost choking to death because I'm pulling on its collar and it is doing everything in its power to go in the opposite direction to the one I am going. When I put a leash on his collar, the dog shakes as if it is mortally terrified. I take the dog for a walk every night. I have to drag the dog during half of the walk. Even when the dog is actually walking and not being dragged, it is constantly trying to move in the direction of the house. He knows this direction even after we have made several turns on several streets. It is as if the dog is a compass needle, and the house is true north. Once my foot accidentally banged into a dumpster. The dog acted as if it were in imminent peril. It went completely ape shit (because of the noise of my foot hitting the side of the dumpster) and struggled mightily to get away. It ran between my legs. It ran the other way. It ran in circles. Finally its collar came off and off that dog shot, like a bat out of hell. I ran for about a hundred feet and then said F this, I'll just go home. And sure enough that's where the dog went (the dog's name is Rooney by the way). I tightened his collar and took him back out. I passed the same dumpster and kicked again lightly to see the dogs reaction. It was the same... mortal terror. At one point during the walk, I was on Hickory, right before Fry St. A guy was standing outside one of the shops, smoking a cigarette, and he saw me dragging this dog down the sidewalk. As we passed him, he remarked: "That dog won't hunt." I thought this was hilarious. No, that dog definitely won't hunt.