| As you know, I have a   thing for cats.   | 
| they are independent,   don't need to be walked, clean themselves | 
| and in some cases,   ring door bells, use a laptop or play guitar | 
| But some of you may   ask, "Didn't you have a dog for a bit?" | 
| Yes, I did. | 
| But it didn't work   out. | 
| not since that fateful   day in 1986 | 
| My stepfather loved   dogs | 
| we had a little   one-eyed mutt named Petey, he was a great dog | 
| went everywhere with   me, used to chase tadpoles in puddles and would never bark | 
| unfortunately, Petey   had some dog sickness, probably DAIDs | 
| and he passed away   while I was at school | 
| my stepfather was at   work | 
| he received a call   about Petey and knew how heartbroken I would be and decided to  "fix" the issue | 
| so Dad went out to a friend’s   house and picked up his dog that he was trying to give away | 
| now for context, I was   7 years old | 
| i was big for my age   and Petey was part lab/part heeler, not a small dog but didn't scare me either | 
| we would wrestle in   the yard, in fact it was wrestling with Petey that gave me  two scars on my leg, I'll show you if you want, four inch crescent shaped scars | 
| he loved chicken bones | 
| but didn't clean up   after himself | 
| and chicken bones hurt   when you fall on them | 
| Twice. | 
| so I was used to this,   my buddy | 
| my pal | 
| My only friend. | 
| so rushing to get   finished before I came home, Dad buried Petey in the alley  and put this new dog in the yard | 
| unfortunately, we   didn't have a real good fence and our new dog got out | 
| *got out | 
| he was very big | 
| in fact, he was a   Tawny boxer, you can see a similar animal here | 
| My stepfather didn't   know his name, just that he only responded to Spanish instructions | 
| so we decided to call   him "Rocoso" | 
| and since he was such   a big dog and would get out there was only one solution | 
| god forbid we fix the   fence | 
| Dad chained the dog   out | 
| now, as you can   imagine, 7 years old introvert more comfortable with books  than people, I was intimidated | 
| Here I go, walking outside   to play with my new dog, chained and confined to a 20 foot circle | 
| at first it's fine, he   licks my hand | 
| then rolls over | 
| I’m laughing because   even though my heart is broken, I can see the future, a bright  future, me and Rocoso | 
| now, time goes on, me   standing at the edge of a well-worn circle, petting, playing  with Rocoso, but still vigilant | 
| looking back now, I   can tell, I was standing at the edge of manhood, deciding if  it was time to venture forth, to take a risk, to open my heart again | 
| one day I decide it's   time | 
| unfortunately it was   the day after a large rain | 
| and any of you   familiar with Texas know that rain makes mud and mud makes  the ground soft and soft ground means that posts and poles don't always stay in | 
| but I was young, I   never thought about it | 
| I finished my Count   Chocula cereal, drank the milk and ran outside, pausing to  only change from my batman pajamas to jean shorts | 
| i edge up to Rocoso | 
| he's lying down, not   at the edge of the circle like always | 
| but in the center | 
| inviting me in | 
| daring me in | 
| i look into his dark,   tejano eyes and see nothing | 
| no fear, no anger, no   anticipation | 
| I take a step inside   the circle | 
| and it seems as if the   world has stopped | 
| there are no birds   singing, the wind dies, no sounds | 
| my heart hammering in   my chest the only thing in the world | 
| another step, and he   moves | 
| twitching his stub of   a tail | 
| just a fraction of an   inch but I see it | 
| What does it mean? | 
| is he wagging his tail   to play | 
| is he warning me off | 
| resolved, I know that   if I'm ever going to get back to the love I had for Petey,  I have to do this | 
| two steps, an ear   wiggle | 
| another step, his leg   twitches | 
| he's not steadying   himself to pounce | 
| he's not steeling   himself to attack | 
| I convince myself | 
| he's cold | 
| it rained | 
| he's on the ground | 
| *ground | 
| i would be cold | 
| there is a quilt next   to him | 
| dirty, matted with   leaves | 
| and since he's not on   it | 
| yet cold, I assumed   there is only one plausible solution | 
| Rocoso wants to be   covered up with the quilt | 
| What a novel idea. | 
| I will be his hero,   his guardian, the bringer of warmth | 
| how could he not love   me | 
| grasping this golden   truth, I rush forward, in my haste I notice his chain | 
| it barely registers   that the pole in the ground, isn't | 
| I grab the quilt and   twirl it around my head like a magician! | 
| ABRA-CADABRA | 
| I know this will work | 
| he raises up on his   front paws | 
| and the dirty, wet,   stinking quilt | 
| lands on his back | 
| covering him from head   to tail | 
| It looks like a pillow   under there, how warm he must be! | 
| but then | 
| then I heard it | 
| the growl | 
| the growl that I have   heard in my dreams for the last 25 years | 
| the growl that even   now, reminds me of cold, still death | 
| the pillow moves | 
| towards me | 
| i take a step back | 
| it moves again, two   steps back | 
| then it happens | 
| Rocoso comes flying   out from under the quilt | 
| and the only thing I   remember about his face is the absurd leaves stuck to his jowls | 
| i laugh | 
| knowing it's the laugh   of the dead | 
| I turn and run yet the   ground is wet | 
| I know that if I reach   the edge of the circle I'm OK | 
| that circle of worn   earth that has been my haven for these many months | 
| my protector, my only   hope | 
| I fall to one knee | 
| i hear the chain   jingling, I'm eight feet from the circle | 
| i jump up | 
| and fall again | 
| face first in the mud   I know I have one shot left, the ground is pounding | 
| i hear him | 
| the heavy growl, the   breathing, the slap of his paws in the mud | 
| summoning strength and   speed I never knew existed I scrambled away | 
| I feel his hot breath   on my legs | 
| no no no no no no no   no no | 
| a snap | 
| he misses | 
| by the slimmest of   margins I make it | 
| I’m lying just over   the circle, crying now, unabashedly | 
| somehow the rest of my   life will never be this intense | 
| I will never feel as   alive and dead at the same time | 
| i roll over, unable to   see the clouds for the tears in my eyes | 
| and then | 
| that's when a shadow   crossed over my face, blotting out the sky | 
| DAD! | 
| he's come to save me | 
| i wipe my eyes, look   up and all I see is bared fangs of a dog intent on never  being subjected to my cruelty again | 
| there is no hope | 
| but I have to try | 
| if I can get to the   swing set, I can climb the slide | 
| rolling over like a   soldier in a bullet ridden trench, I roll over the chain,  tangling myself in it | 
| the stake pole digging   into my back | 
| it's all I can do to   bring myself to my knees | 
| and then he hits me | 
| jumping on me from   behind, driving me to the ground, the fury of 100lbs of  canine is no match | 
| I’m screaming, who   cares who hears me | 
| I’m dying, who cares   who saves me | 
| I am undone | 
| then silence | 
| overshadowed by the   sounds of my screams and the blood pounding in my ears,  was the gunshot | 
| Rocoso lies at my side | 
| staring into my eyes | 
| I see his life   draining from him, his vigor disappearing | 
| Why not me! | 
| why this beautiful   animal | 
| my stepfather comes   quickly to my side | 
| and pries my arms from   around this cold dead killer | 
| he gathers me up, a   muddy, bloody, crying heap of a boy | 
| and takes me instead | 
| he's gone for a while   this time, while I rock myself to sleep | 
| I don't venture   outside for days, waiting I suppose for all the dogs in the  world to leave me alone | 
| And then. Dad | 
| my Dad, the man sworn   to protect me,  | 
| asks me to go outside | 
| tells me he has   something for me | 
| i shake my head | 
| no no  | 
| not again | 
| but come on, Tommy,   it's OK, no one is going to hurt you | 
| remembering the   strength it took to step inside the circle, I know I have to  | 
| i step out the door | 
| and there | 
| in the yard | 
| with no chain | 
| nothing between him   and me | 
| my dad bought me a   goat | 
Friday, December 9, 2011
Why I don't get along with dogs
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