Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Dogs...Julie's best friend?

Yesterday I had a few blog-able memories flood my brain and they ALL had to do with my very interesting run-ins with...dogs.
I've really been wanting to get a dog lately....A lady at school says its because I'm 27 and my baby clock is ticking so I'm in need of something cute, little, and fuzzy....its an interesting theory :-)
BUT if that were the case....I'd just get myself a rock pet.....LOL REMEMBER ROCK PETS!!?? Or is it Pet Rocks....
Either way, if you ever had one...or saw one...you know EXACTLY what I'm talking about.  What a rip-off, right? Just like pogs! (come on, can I get a witness!?)....little paper circles that you would stack and try to flip...I'm not even sure of the game, actually!? It's just another example of a cheap toy for kids- just like when kids enjoy playing in the boxes their toys come in, instead of the actual treasure.
They used to sell rock pets when  I was in elementary school.  Literally, we would beg our parents for the money to buy a rock with a piece of fuzzy hair stuff on it....and glued-on eyes...UNBELIEVABLE...
Here is a pic of one if you are not familiar with their species (I'm pretty sure they have gone extinct in our electronic age):

Please....if you have children, do not go out and purchase a Rock Pet for them! Save your money....and just go outside, get a rock and glue some things on it, or draw on it...OR....actually....hmmm.... maybe I could have my own Rock Pet business! (I do need a way to financially help me get through school ;-)
Wow I'm getting so many ideas that I'm not sure if this blog is going to turn out to be about dogs at all!
Just let me rabbit trail for a moment...
I'm thinking of ALL sorts of things that could be cool and buy-able.....if rock pets are cool and buy-able...It is a great way to make money off of useless things! 
For instance...Mud ball.  Yes, mud ball.  I will just roll up mud into a ball, let it dry, and paint it black and white like a soccer ball and sell it.  OR, shoelace bracelet...self-explanatory, right
So, back to dogs...

I always wanted a dog growing up....always.  Unfortunately we only had cats - which I am severely allergic to (The first cat was, "Scooter," who my Mom ran over with the car, the second cat was, "Miercoles," who was named in Spanish because my brother was taking the language in school...and she showed up on a Wednesday.  Miercoles died of lung cancer....please explain to me how this happens?). I'm not trying to be a cat-hater...but they did have a tendency to make my life a bit hell-ish at times :-(

One of my first memories with a dog was when my best friend and I (probably around 8 years old), were riding bikes from my house to hers and we were attacked by the neighbor's German Shepherd, Blue.
Then there was Snuggles.  Snuggles lived across the street in a pretty big fenced in area around a tree-house, but he was never, ever let out.  So after they gave me permission to come and take him on walks...I thought of him as my dog :-)  Here are the main things you need to know about Snuggles....he was FAST and his breath was unimaginably smelly.  So I would let him out, and after a few record-breaking loops around the yard, I put the leash around him and gave him a candy cane....that's all I could think of to do in my little kid brain....so I broke up little pieces of candy cane and fed it to him...unfortunately it didn't help much.

So lets jump to College...this is where things started to go downhill for me. Oh, good ole' Woodstock.  Woodstock was a Weimaraner.  I am familiar with "Weimars" because there are three in my family now, and my sister-in-law's family breeds them in Kansas.  So my roommate, Woodstock's owner, was obviously a hippie, but she's one of my favorite people and Weimar's are one of my favorite type of dog....what could go wrong?
Well, Woodstock wasn't the most disciplined dog (example: I was in charge of a prayer ministry in college and had orchestrated an all-night prayer and worship meeting at the Wesley House.  Woodstock somehow managed to break the METAL pillar, that he was tied to, off of the house and freaked himself out enough to flee the scene....and I flee'd the prayer meeting to walk the streets of Milledgeville to look for him. He was found 3 days later...still alive and kickin').  He grew to be pretty large for our tiny apartment.  He became our third roommate.  I didn't mind taking care of Woodstock when my roomie occasionally had to stay late at class or something....after all, I always wanted a dog.  We lived in a pretty ghetto apartment complex....I hesitate to even call it a complex...oh man, "Elbert Court," that is another blog all together.  Anyway, we didn't really have a yard, so Woodstock would poop in the parking lot....I know...disgusting, right?  Also, he ALWAYS made it a point to pee on our neighbor's doormat on the way to the parking lot (and though they were some our best friends, they were not dog-lovers).  So one day, after arriving home from class, I walked in the door to the apartment....and if smells came in color, this would have been a heavy cloud of putrid green smoke that collided with my face, knocking me back, as I entered the room.  I couldn't walk any further.  My body's immediate reflex was to turn away and slam the door behind me... 
So I went to our (not-so-much-dog-loving neighbor's....with the pee-infested door mat, to just have them come over and share in the insanity with me).  When Amy and her sister, Beth, came over...they were laughing SO HARD and I, being the lady that I am, was holding back cuss words....
My roommate and her dog had left for the weekend so I was puzzled as to what/when/where the stench could be coming from!?  We all knew it...MY ROOM.  So once we narrowed it down to my room....we eventually narrowed it down to...MY BED....and when I took the covers off to find...no stain, nothing but an AWFUL SMELL in a DEFINITE place, I turned over my tempeurpedic mattress topper to find a dull, brown stain that had been repeatedly wiped and unsuccessfully masked by any, and every, cleaning solution!
Seriously?  You have GOT to be kidding me.  Nope, it happened.  My roommate had come home from class to the green putrid cloud and when she found that HER dog had pooped on MY bed....she tried to wipe it off and instead of telling me about it....she just TURNED MY MATTRESS PAD OVER TO HIDE IT!!!!
Oh my, I could go on for blogs, but we must get to the next story so that this post doesn't take a lifetime to read...(I've never been good at leaving out the details :-)

Ok, so after college I lived with a bunch of girls and two little dogs that I grew to absolutely adore....and one adored me, but the other obviously thought that his little poodle-self was my pack leader, because he cocked his leg from the couch to pee on my back as I was sitting on the floor.....TWICE.  
So one time, when my roommate was out of town, I was taking care of the sweet little pup and the prideful poodle.  I had a friend visiting and we decided to take the pups for a walk around the neighborhood...as we had done many, many times before....with no twilight-zone incidents. So here was the chain of events, in 3rd person:

Julie and Kelly are walking pups.
Julie and Kelly hear the scream of a 6-year old boy and turn to see a pit-bull (that seriously looked like it could have been on National Geographic with its wild eyes and bulging muscles) CHARGING AT US.
Julie remembers the few things she has learned from watching, The Dog Whisperer, and decides it would be worse to pick up the pups because then the killer lion-dog would come after the humans.
So Julie rises to be the tallest 5'3" she can be, and tries to play it cool.
The dog approaches and stops for a second....they sniff....they wait.....the poodle gives a tiny growl and the pit-bull attacks the other, less dominant mut, (I know....how could you get less dominant than a poodle, but she was the female...so she was)
Pit-bull has entire dog in its mouth...seeming to tear it to shreds.  
6-year old boy, (Pit-bull's owner), approaches sobbing and exclaiming, "Oh no, its happening again!"
Great....a serial killer dog.
In a sheer adrenaline reaction, Julie starts pulling the neck of the Pitbull, trying to get him off of the little pup...no luck....so then she tries to hit it on the back to make it loosen its grip...nothing.  
When all hope seems to have disintegrated, the pit-bull bites through little pup's collar, accidentally setting her free, and miraculously still alive......she bolts.  
In shock, Julie tells Kelly to take the poodle and go try to find the little pup.  
Pit-bull starts to leap after them when Julie, (in another adrenaline reaction), grabs the pit-bull's collar and yanks it back.  
Pit-bull looks up at Julie...no joke...with part of little pup's flesh hanging from its mouth and she says in, hardly a dog WHISPER...."BAD DOG!"
Pit-bull's face turns sad and Julie tells 6-year old boy to go get parents.  
She is in shock as the realization creeps up that she is now alone...just her and National Geographic Lion Dog.  
She looks down to see her sweet, whispy white skirt unintentionally tie-dyed red with dog blood. (seriously...this happened)
Julie, not being the type of person to be rude, has a moment of weakness and fails to hold back when parent emerges from the house walking at the pace of a snail towards Julie and killer-dog.
Julie later feels awful when she finds out that this was the boy's grandmother who, because of health problems, couldn't walk any faster. 
When Grandma, 6-year old boy, and killer dog are removed from the scene- Julie runs home (feeling like she is in a horror movie with her blood-splattered, white skirt...running through the neighborhood)

So.... long story short, little pup had actually run straight home and howled on the front step until other roomies heard her and came to her rescue by washing her wounds to assess the damage.  Little pup had to be rushed to the emergency animal hospital, where she would receive stitches, staples, and major doggy drugs....but she was alive, thank God.  
Julie, after recruiting a guy friend to come help.... calling animal control, police, then animal control again....had to endure this comment when animal control finally came out.... on police orders. Think of this in your best country accent:
"Ma'am, we don't do animal on animal fights....if one squirrel were attacking another squirrel, would you call me?  No. We only do animal on people fights." 

Now do you understand why many of my life experiences seem to be blog-worthy?  This night was traumatic enough, right? Then Animal control Joe equates the events of my horrifying evening to a squirrel fight!?
No words.  Except there are words...and I just shared them- so I hope you could laugh, as I did, at the AFTER-funniness of the chain of events :-)

I still do want a dog, but maybe... in the mean time... I should stick to Rock Pets...

Standing tall,
The Dog Whisperette