Pessimistic Optimism

Life as I see it… sort of.

Watchdog, My Arse

Man’s best friend has a lot of good uses in this world.  Number one is probably being a, well, best friend, but after that our furry possessions perform numerous other tasks on a daily basis for their supposedly smarter two-legged dog license holders.

Like most dogs mine wears many hats, and he looks damn good in them, especially the Stetson accompanied by some spurs.  Never mind that, but he does serve many purposes for my family.

He’s a fantastic plaything for the kiddies, you know, something to pull at or climb on or just plain pet and he never shies away from them unless he sees them coming.  When he bucks them off when their hand or foot accidentally hits the right spot he looks in my direction for approval and I nod.  I figure that he needs to get his licks in, too.

Having our dog around fulfills a lot of basic needs at my house and none of them have anything to do with peanut butter.  His thick mane makes a great footrest which is mutually beneficial because my feet stay warm and my corns and warts and whatever the hell else is growing down there scratches his back for him.  Stress reliever is a job that my k-9 boy relishes, I think, because he always listens to me, most of the time, and no one else does, most of the time and this makes me feel good.  I didn’t even have to beat him to obey, much.

Fertilizer is a job title that most dogs take to heart.  Mine’s going for top dog in this field.  He’s so proficient at it that I share his talents with my neighbors when they’re sleeping or not home.  I have him do this because I think everyone should be empowered the same way I am every time I shovel up a load of yesterday’s Kibblesn Bits.  It’s kind of like a Robin Hood thing, but has nothing to do with stealing or gold or anything similar to the story about that tight-wearing freak.

I have to admit that my four-legged boy isn’t as good at one of his chores, being a vacuum for dropped food.  The finicky pooch ignores the conveniently dropped veggies while scarfing up the chicken, steak or SPAM.  The sad part is that this was exactly the reason why we wanted a dog in the first place, sort of.

One of the most important things a dog can do is protect your home from intruders or Tony Danza.  A good watchdog’s priceless as long as he doesn’t eat you or one of your children or was previously owned by Michael Vick.  My family thought we had the best because he always barks loudly at people walking by or urinating in our bushes, that is until the other day.  It was just a regular night with my wife and I getting cozy on the couch using Fido as a footrest while watching The Girls Next Door when our child’s finger painting masterpiece sailed off of the kitchen wall and made an odd noise.  The not-so-brave doggy jumped up, stuck his tail between his legs and whimpered endlessly.  I guess that’s what we get for choosing a Golden Retriever.


August 27, 2007 - Posted by | Dogs, family, Humor, kids, life, parenthood, Ranting


  1. One time our dog got out and went to the nearest dog park in San Francisco. I found her walking home on a leash with another person I did not know. Obviously, we counted on her as the “alarm” system, but as far as self-defense, well, not so much.

    Comment by the frogster | September 8, 2007 | Reply

  2. Frogster,
    Your dog sounds about as ferocious as mine. Maybe they can get together in the ring and Vick it out, er I mean lick it out, er… nevermind.

    Comment by linusmann | September 11, 2007 | Reply

  3. oh if that was a painting of the evil dogcatcher then i can understand his fright- “its coming! its coming! oh my god its coming after me!”

    Comment by Nooter | June 6, 2009 | Reply

  4. Nooter,
    The painting was a cross between Picasso and Jackson Pollock, so it could’ve been interpreted many ways. The pooch might have seen something differently than those of us on two legs.

    Comment by linusmann | June 8, 2009 | Reply

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