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It says something about how fortunate - or perhaps merely optimistic - I am when the only thing capable of moving me to vicious rantage is the arseholes who don't pick up after their dogs. It's especially annoying when they use the same dog walking routes as I do, because I know my dogs are far more attractive and memorable and conspicuous than theirs - meaning that unless I pick up after their stinking unfortunate malnourished curs myself, people are going to jump to the conclusion that I'm the disgusting bastard leaving a trail of shit everywhere I go.
I did have a vindicating moment last week when I witnessed a couple with a Shih-Tzu in flagrante delicto. I gave them my very best Winn Adami smile and asked them with excruciating politeness if they needed a plastic bag. I watched gleefully as the miserable worms discovered under my relentless burning gaze that, oh my, what a surprise, they did have one after all. I didn't shift my eyes or my smile until the pavement was clean. It was glorious.
Autumn is getting into its stride here, and since our street is lined with beautiful mature oak trees, we are inundated with grey squirrels. They sit on fences and chatter at us, they flaunt their tails from the tops of fences and they play chicken in front of us while poor Spike is reduced to a frothing predatory frenzy. He's getting much better at climbing trees, and since he can now get six or eight feet up a branchless trunk without much effort, I'm getting good at catching him in my arms on the way down. Every trip round the block to have a pee has become a mixture of obstacle course, suburban safari and rock star tour: "Hey, that's the amazing tree-climbing dog, isn't it? Wow! Can I have his autograph?"
I only let him climb the ones I know he can't get too far up, and those only if the ground underneath is springy turf - although part of me longs to see how well he'd manage a really climbable tree, the only way he knows to get down is falling out - and although he lands on his feet as well as any cat, I haven't forgotten that it's my job to stop him biting off more than he can chew. It still attracts a lot of attention.
In other news, the rest of my head space is entirely taken up with the collaboration - also known as The Fanfic That Ate My Brain. When![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
captain_lila shows up I shall beg her for permission to show you her Klingon stories - read those, and read my Brinkmanship, and if you don't see why I'm all moist and breathless with this particular creative process I'll damn you for an anhedonic minion of soulless orthodoxy, so I will.
Getting back to it now...
I did have a vindicating moment last week when I witnessed a couple with a Shih-Tzu in flagrante delicto. I gave them my very best Winn Adami smile and asked them with excruciating politeness if they needed a plastic bag. I watched gleefully as the miserable worms discovered under my relentless burning gaze that, oh my, what a surprise, they did have one after all. I didn't shift my eyes or my smile until the pavement was clean. It was glorious.
Autumn is getting into its stride here, and since our street is lined with beautiful mature oak trees, we are inundated with grey squirrels. They sit on fences and chatter at us, they flaunt their tails from the tops of fences and they play chicken in front of us while poor Spike is reduced to a frothing predatory frenzy. He's getting much better at climbing trees, and since he can now get six or eight feet up a branchless trunk without much effort, I'm getting good at catching him in my arms on the way down. Every trip round the block to have a pee has become a mixture of obstacle course, suburban safari and rock star tour: "Hey, that's the amazing tree-climbing dog, isn't it? Wow! Can I have his autograph?"
I only let him climb the ones I know he can't get too far up, and those only if the ground underneath is springy turf - although part of me longs to see how well he'd manage a really climbable tree, the only way he knows to get down is falling out - and although he lands on his feet as well as any cat, I haven't forgotten that it's my job to stop him biting off more than he can chew. It still attracts a lot of attention.
In other news, the rest of my head space is entirely taken up with the collaboration - also known as The Fanfic That Ate My Brain. When
captain_lila shows up I shall beg her for permission to show you her Klingon stories - read those, and read my Brinkmanship, and if you don't see why I'm all moist and breathless with this particular creative process I'll damn you for an anhedonic minion of soulless orthodoxy, so I will. Getting back to it now...
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I say post them :P ;)
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I may, however, threaten her till she gives permission... ;)
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Even though they're probably the best bits of Trekkie erotica I've ever read in my life and everyone in the world needs to read them...
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(though I preferred Kai Opaka, may she live forever under the Light)
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...and yes, Kai Winn is one of my greatest role models. Opaka was very sweet and all, but Winn was so much more fun!
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That sounds so very, very, very wrong...
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We take no shit from anyone!
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Aigh! I better stop now...LOL!
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Seriously, catching that couple in the act went a long way towards making up for all those times I've gone out with two dogs and ended up cleaning up after about six...
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Ironically, Spike's recall is probably good enough that I could get away with it, myself (Squish is another matter entirely and even in the park he's on his long line) - except I'm not stupid enough to try. Even the best-trained dog in the world isn't immune to sudden squirrels and the like.
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But I worry about those owners who let their off-leash dogs run up to any leashed dog that comes up....what if that dog were dog aggressive?? Stupid, stupid humans!!!!
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Not entirely sure what to do about it, other than telling him "no" and removing him.
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It's knowing their movement's restricted that makes them snarky, of course. Perfectly logical; but unleashing them's not exactly a sane option.
Spike isn't exactly aggressive - he has no intention of getting into serious fights with other dogs - but he gets barky and snarky, and he has an enormous booming bark for a dog his size, he sounds like the Hound of the Baskervilles. It's embarrassing to be walking along attached to all that sound and fury, and I worry that one day the other dog is going to turn out to be a serious fighter and come and pound him.
Although, as always, they'll have to come through me first...
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I was walking him one day and passed an elderly lady walking her (ehem) border collie mix...when the bc happened to get loose of his leash and came at Odin full force!!! I kept myself between the two of them but it was obvious the bc was looking to EAT Odin if he could get to him.....finally his owner managed to catch him and drag him away....whew!!!!
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'Night sweetie....I'm off to bed!!!!
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Even if he IS leashed
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he even stays on his leash when destroying outdoor fixtures at Taco Bell and escaping in to the highway
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LOL
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My puppy's legs are so small and stumpy he has trouble getting upstairs!
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But I'll do it as soon as I can.
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On tree rodentia...
Again, I commend you to the Arrogant Worms and ' Kill the dog next door'. OK, it isn't the dog's fault ( though in this case there is room for doubt!), but the owner gets a fair deal towrds the end...
Enjoy!
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Re: On tree rodentia...
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Re: On tree rodentia...
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Re: On tree rodentia...
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Re: On tree rodentia...
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You don't want to know where my mind went when I read this sentence the first time.
On the other hand, knowing you, maybe you do... ;)
I had to read it two more times before I figured out what you meant.