So it’s Sunday night and I’m not sure where the weekend went. Monday is supposed to be a holiday, but I find myself needing to go in and finish some crappy work so that Tuesday doesn’t make me want to come home and drink. Plain and simple.
But my thoughts tonight center around two very cute Yorkies. Now - if you’ve known me for more than about 30 minutes you’ll know that I LOVE dogs. I have two of my own boys and just so happens my Flickr account is laden with pics of them and their misfit friends. I would go so far as to say that I am an animal lover as well - zoo’s fascinate me and I could spend hours there. And I get all quiver lipped when I see animals on the side of the road - every-single-time. Breaks my heart, I don’t understand it and I hope to never grow immune to it. Makes me know that I still have some form of compassion inside me.
Having said that...our subdivision backs up to another subdivision. And in said other subdivision there live two very cute Yorkies - who have absolutely no control over their yappers. And their “owner” sees nothing wrong with them bolting out into the back yard and letting them yap for - no joke - 20 minutes straight.
I have walked past this home almost every day for the last 6 years with my boys because it’s on the way to the place where my boys feel comfortable “doing their biz”. Well every time...every-single-time...here come the rats to greet us. They bark at us as if we were total strangers. I have taken the boys right up to the hole in the fence on several occasions with the hope that familiarity would somehow breed a friendship. My boys are terribly interested in them...well their snouts anyway cause that’s about all they can see, see:
A few days after the start of the new year, I made a resolution that no matter how many trips to the fence it took, I was going to take my boys over to say hi until those yaps turned into sniffs and little paws coming through the fence to say hi. I actually had hope one day when the barking stopped and they stood transfixed on each other AND they didn't bark when we walked away. I felt a weight had been lifted and looked forward to the next morning to see if this was the beginning of something wonderful.
I admit that I am delusional. As you may have guessed from the title of this blog, I feel differently now.
I thought maybe that if they could smell ME it might help break the ice. Well, this is what I got for it:
Luckily Kujo did not break the skin - otherwise I would have pulled that 3 pound rat through the fence and....well, let’s just say I would not have been nice. I didn’t just stick my finger down there, I stuck the back of my hand close to the fence so they could essentially only smell the back of my hand. Well one of them somehow got their snout higher up in the opening than my hand and bit my finger!!
The lesson: some dogs should be carted off to a farm far, far away without their owners knowing. I’m just sayin’. Wait, that’s not a lesson...
OUCH!Not nice. My first inclination involves stealth, canvas bags, and an anonymous drop at the nearest shelter...no kill shelter of course...you know there's no such thing as a bad dog, just bad owners.
ReplyDeleteYeah, I know, tell that to your finger.
Bad yappin' dogs!!
Awed that you would work so hard to foster a relationship with the little devil dogs.
Amazed by your self control.
If that had been me...someone woulda been short one rat this evening.
Oh, who am I kidding, I don't walk my boys. Dog door, baby gotta love it ;-)
Feel better soon.
If they keep up the shenanigans I may require your stealthy assistance before you move far, far away. What's that saying - true friends aren't the ones who bail you out of jail - they're the ones sitting next to you in jail saying "Was that fun, or what???". You are indeed that person to me.
ReplyDeleteI think I heard Jeff Dunham call Yorkies (or maybe just small dogs) "yapping beanie babies" once, ha! Describes them to a T, doesn't it?
I've got a simple blood blister on my finger, but other than that I'm fine...thanks for the well wishes!