Thursday, December 27, 2012

Dog Fight

     My two dogs had a fight.
     The first one's ear was ripped apart, bleeding.  The second one had patches of skin where the fur had been yanked out.
     It happened because they were sleeping together in close quarters, on rugs in one of my bathrooms, after I learned that the weather was going to be freezing.  The weather man on the radio had said, "Bring your pets in," so I did.
     I woke at 2:38 am to the sound of ferocious barking and lunging attacks.  My dream had used the dog fight noises as a soundtrack for a theme of grizzly bears tracking me down.
     The face of one of my bathroom cabinets had been torn off in the scuffle, and the sharp ends of four wood screws poked out.
     Wouldn't you think that after a til-death-do-us-part fight like that the dogs would never want to speak to one another again?  Wouldn't you think the hatred would burn holes in their hearts?
     But an hour later, my nervous system still sparking, I checked on them and they were asleep together on one rug, back to back.  If they were two men, they'd be having beers together.
     Maybe I should ask my prosecutor out for a few beers.
     Corey, how about it?  Let's go out for a few beers.  We can figure this thing out.  No point in staying mad.  There are plenty of places to go sit down together.
     This isn't how things are done, is it?

No comments:

Post a Comment