My Dogs... are Weird

This afternoon, while I was sitting in my room, I came to the conclusion that I was bored. Bored out of my mind. As any other kid, I do love the weekends. The brief relief from the chaos of school and all that tedious busy work teachers assign is great. Don't get me wrong. However, where basketball and work used to take up all my free time, I now find myself with an excess of it now that basketball is over. I still work, but I already worked my 20 hours during the weekdays. So, having completed all my major homework assignments on Saturday, I had a whole day with literally nothing on the agenda.

I wandered downstairs looking for some exciting activity to magically present itself. I glanced out the window and saw my dogs sunbathing on the back porch. Now, my dogs love any and every opportunity to come inside the house. What's weird is as much as they love coming inside, they love going into the front yard even more. I'll never understand it. They spend maybe 7/8 of their day outside but the front yard is like the undiscovered utopia to them. Being the generous soul I am (not to mention the person with nothing to do) I decided to take them out front.

The second they got into the front yard, they shot out across the lawn trying to sniff up every inch of it. I stood on the edge of the yard to supervise and get some brief, but much needed, sun. Hazel, the girl golden retriever, loves to search for deer poop. I find it to be disgusting but whatever floats her boat, I guess. Bear, the boy golden retriever, generally just wanders around aimlessly not doing much of anything.

As I’m watching my dogs have the time of their life (Hazel is currently running in small circles in excitement), I hear a voice next door. A little girl has spotted my ecstatic dogs and shouts out, “Daddy look at the cute puppies! I want to pet them!!” Her dad, not seeing me standing in the shadows immediately rejects the idea. His response is, “Those dogs are loose. They could have rabies!” In my mind I’m admiring this man’s responsibility to his daughter’s well being until he adds, “Look at that one running in circles…it must have some kind of brain damage.”

Suddenly I’m a little angry. Hazel may be a goof but that shouldn’t be conducive of brain damage. I think, “I should set my dogs on that rude man!” Of course my dogs would just lick and slobber on the man… hardly the desired result I want. Oh well. It’s probably all for the best.

Besides, is this the face of a killer?

(Bear)