Saturday, December 9, 2006

My Dog Is A Ferocious Killing Machine

Okay, I just have to laugh. Really, I love my dog.

As mentioned in my previous post, I have my windows open in the house today. I want to take advantage of this break in the cold weather to enjoy the mild temps and let the breeze blow some fresh air into the house.

Apparently, my dog Fred has issues with this. You see, we have curtains hanging on quite a few windows in the house. They're lovely curtains, and they soften up the appearance of the blinds underneath them nicely. Fred has no issues with the curtains on normal days, just the days when I open the windows causing these denizens of evil to billow in the wind. When the curtains hang nicely and quietly, unmoving, Fred isn't concerned with them. It's when they take on a life of their own that he gets all nervous and jittery. Right now, he's alternating between being glued to my side and pacing the floor.

Seriously, I love his creature.

While having a big dog (the only way to go when it comes to dogs, in my opinion) can create a bit of security, we seem to have gone wrong somewhere. Our big, bad dog - while able to instill fear into the hearts of strangers - is a big baby. He's scared of his own shadow! Okay…admittedly I've never seen him jump at his own shadow, but he has been known to be overly-startled when he hears a fart emerge from his own behind. You can laugh, but I'm not making this up!!

My "ferocious" dog is scared of loud noises. Firecrackers send him into a frenzy of nervous pacing that just about drives me crazy! It's not so bad now that we have carpet…but in our apartments with wood floors I would go nuts at having to listen to the clickclickclick of his nails on the floor. He also paces at heavy rains, thunder and lightning and heavy winds.

Today, one of the bedroom doors blew shut and Fred jumped behind me. He wouldn't go into the now suspicious room until I walked in to find something to use as a door-stopper.

The vet tries to look into his eyes with a little flashlight, and Fred jumps into the chair behind me. I can't help it…I go into hysterics.

Silly pup.

Now, he's not all wuss. He can perform his big ferocious duties when needed. He's been known to throw himself between me and a charging Boxer while out on a walk. It surprised the heck out of me when he actually jumped in the path of the oncoming dog, bared his teeth and growled a threat at the other dog.Where did this come from?

He also does a marvelous job of barking loudly and menacingly when the doorbell rings, or he hears a suspicious noise outside. It scares the crap out of anyone that isn't familiar with him, and that's fine with me. Particularly when the doorbell rings at ten o'clock at night. Who the hell rings a doorbell to a strange house that late at night?!? I don't want to know…and thanks to my ferocious beast, I don't think they'll be back! Good job, boy!!

And in spite of all of this, he is known as the dog with a kind heart. He gives up his rawhides and pigs ears to his best friends without complaint. He doesn't acknowledge the hateful swats of my crazy cat. And when said crazy cat comes and rubs up against his feet (foot fetish!), Fred would rather get up from his comfortable position and move than confront this crazy creature that he knows he's not supposed to chase.  He loves children, and recognizes that when he's too tired to run really far after his ball, that these little people can't throw quite as far as the bigger people, therefore making them the perfect candidates to throw the ball now. When we're out on a walk and children swarm to him, he'll stand still and revel in the affection.

Yes, he amazes me.

So he's laying at my side right now, staring nervously at the billowing red curtains in the office. I guess when Hubby comes home, he'll be installing the pull-backs next to the window so that Fred will be able to rest easy when I open the windows in here. After all, it's all bout making the dog happy, right?

That's right…my dog is a big, bad, ferocious killing machine.  And I love him for it. 

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