The Cellar - Time to resurrect an old post

Some of you might remember this post and why I posted it. Seems applicable even though the specifics have changed.

http://http://cellar.org/showpost.ph...&postcount=170

I used to have this dog. Mangy little thing. He'd pee on my carpet, chew my furniture and puke in my underwear drawer. And he would bark. It was an annoying bark but made you feel sorry for it. Sort of like chewing tin foil while watching George Bush address the UN. No worse. It was so shrill and so grating that you could actually see space warping as the sound came out - sort of like looking at a sunset just above an open gas can. But he would only bark just as I was dozing off as though the switch was embedded in my eyelid.

Anyway, I let him hang around but told him to stay out of my bedroom. Which he did for a while. Then I caught him on my bed. Pinching a loaf on my pillow. Ears out, eyes bulging, back arched, tail up and BOOM! There it wuz. On my pillow. That I sewed with fabric that I bought. Smedley just looked at me and grinned and ran off before I could smack him with the paper.

So, one day, I sez to myself: "Self!?"

Then I said: "Whut?"

Then I said: "I'm gonna get rid of this dog!"

About that time, my neighbor dropped in to borrow my lawn mower. Again. I think he siphons the gas out of it and puts it in his car because there's never any gas in it when he brings it back. Come to think of it, he doesn't even have a yard. Where was I? Oh, yeah. Smedley.

So I told my neighbor that I'm up to here with Smedley and was going to drop him off at the pound.

"Whyfore, oh neighbor of mine?" He asked. "What'd Smedley ever do to you? C'mere Smedley -- ooochoooo coochie coochie coochie. Does your butt itch? scratch-scratch-scratch - leg thumping on floor - sly grin in my general direction - there -all better now."

"Y'know?" As he spoke, his eyebrows furled in judgement of me which, for a millisecond, gave me a shivering flashback to this picture I saw once of a medieval Bishop sternly administering the Inquisition of a man who had not expressed sufficient gratitude to his torturers for purging him of his sin. "His butt wouldn't itch like that if you let him sleep in your bedroom instead of wherever you let him stay." Smedley shot me a look of smug satisfaction that my neighbor didn't notice.

"But he craps on my bed and barks when I sleep and..." He stopped me.

"Put a plastic trash bag on your pillow and get some fucking earplugs for God's sake! What the hell is wrong with you?!?! He's just a dog like any other dog. You have thirty dogs. What's the difference?"

Stunned, I just looked at him with a mouth-open stare.

He continued and his expression lightened. "Not to change the subje... you ok?... but my TV is still out. And did you remember to set your TiVo for The UN/Harvard sponsored Al Gore Global Warming Conference moderated by Kofi Annan tonight from 5:30 to 11:30? I hear they are doing a special segment where they have this ice carving of George Bush and it, like, melts 'n stuff you know like the ice caps are melting.... Anyway can I watch it live at your house tonight - I already invited some friends and they don't have cell phones so I like can't reach them to change plans thanks man."

"But the Sponge Bob 24-hour maratho..." I started to say.

He resumed to his affectionathon for Smedley. "C'mere Smedleypoo. We're gonna watch Al Gore and Kofi Annan save the world from the mental midget your sorry-ass owner voted for together tonight! Yes we are! Coochie-coochie [rubs noses, swaps spit] Isn't that right? Ohhhhhhh you're so CUTE!!!" Smedley shot me another eff-you look as his leg thumped the floor.

After he left, Smedley disappeared out the back door. When he came back for lunch, I was resolved to take his sorry but to the pound. Then I remembered that the spark plug in the lawnmower was fouled so I replaced it with one out of my car so I could finish cutting the grass. I'll just put it back so I can take Smedley to the pound.

Just then, I looked out the window and saw my neighbor disappear with my lawnmower.

Nausea.