Saturday, March 12, 2011

Ya like dahgs?

My brother maintains that I have no sense of humor. This proves that my brother doesn't know me very well. It's not that I have no sense of humor, it's that I don't share his lowest common denominator sense of humor. Him: Apatow fan. Me: Not. Mel Brooks is funny. The Coen brothers are often funny. Monty Python is funny. Mostly I like really twisted dark comedy. Which is why when Snatch was on the other night, I had to watch. And I laughed hysterically. The Brad Pitt, in the full on pikey accent asking, "Ya like dahgs?" remains one of my favorite things in movies.

And in bad non-sequiturs: I do like dahgs. Very much. Which I believe I've copped to before. At my mom's house we have a 38 pound mutt. (I know because he just went to the vet and got weighed. She said he needed to go on a diet. I feel strong because I pick him up all the time.) I adore this dog. We play, we watch TV together, we walked Land's End the other day with my mom, which was great, him and I jogging up the steps. So yesterday, I grabbed the dog and took him on a walk around Lake Merced.

OMG. I was gonna punt the dog into the lake and it would have been totally justifiable. 38 pounds of constant tugging. Somewhere when he was a puppy (which isn't that long ago, he's only a year and a half old), he developed an intense hatred of bicycles. If one cruises by he chomps at it and snarls like he's taking down big game. I have him on, literally, a short leash. But if the bikes come from behind I can't hear them so I'm constantly off balance pulling him in, as a not very athletic person, I'm waiting for this to make me fall. Mercifully it didn't. When we first start the walk and I'm still getting adjusted to him being a pain in the ass, some big buff dude rides by on a bicycle, dog chomps, and guy flips us off. Um. It's an at best medium sized dog. ON A LEASH. For serious? That was necessary? Then dude is stopped at a bench a little ways up the path and sort of snarls at us being a jerk. I didn't say or do anything and just kept walking but I shoulda called him out on being a douche. Muscle bound idiot intimidated by a tiny dog? I'm not walking my 90 pound pit. From his perspective, I imagine a lunging dog isn't the most welcoming site, but that was seriously uncalled for.

I spend the next 4 miles fighting the dog. I'm PISSED. Working out is my zen relaxing time, as far as I'm concerned. I mean, working out SUCKS. But it also is about me and clearing my brain and zoning out for a little bit. So now that I've been tugging on a leash for over an hour, this walk seemingly endless, as he's now decided that joggers and strollers and motorcycles and UPS trucks on the road bordering the path are also the enemy, I want to tie him to a tree and leave him there (I'm irrationally angry, I would NEVER harm my dog). He was just being an ornery little monster. I think maybe there's just too much going on at Lake Merced, too much sensory overload for him. I don't know. But we're not walking that path together again, that's for sure.

Another fun fact about me: I hold grudges. Like whoa. It's the Irish/Jewish blood in my veins. We don't forget a slight. I may forgive at some point, but I won't forget. Stubborn to my own detriment on occasion. This extended to the dog. I came home and told my mom what a pain in the ass he had been and then spent the rest of the evening ignoring him. And he knew. Oh, he kneewww.

Except. Unlike with most people who I will continue to be pissed at for perpetuity? The dog does this:

Blue shirt, brown sweats? That's me. He's sound asleep as close to me as possible, his head running parallel to my leg, his feet just beyond he computer screen. And how can you be pissed at that? Dammit dog. You're forgiven. I'm still letting someone else walk you today. 

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