blue moon (2)

Monday, February 11, 2008

Biggie ©

This past week has been a roller coaster of emotion.
I haven’t had time to stop and slow down.
This last year has been brutal to my family but this last week shook it from the roots.

I had the funeral for my Aunts father and on its eve an uncle passed away, funeral was Saturday.
Just before the news of the death my aunt and mothers best friend and sister in law was told her cancer has returned just a month after finishing radiation that was follow up to the surgery just before Christmas.

Death and dieing has become a regular topic among my parents lately and it’s putting everyone on edge.
My parents are in and close to their eighties and constantly remind us that their time is almost done.
I mean at least once and hour we are told.
If they live for another twenty years, that’s a lot of hours.

It’s hard going to these funerals; I stand there looking at people I have known all my life, older.
The reception after is attended by the old people mostly; a handful of young are here, they have better things to do.

I watch them mull around talking remembering the times they all had with the departed.
The picnics we had as kids where 50 cars would gather at the break of dawn in the church parking lot to form a convoy of Greeks who drove 100 miles on mass to some national park to be together and have fun.

I watch but in my mind the clock goes back thirty years.
This room was where Greeks used to gather before the hall was built.
This is where we all gathered for parties and other gatherings.
The room was always filled with people with little or no room to move.
I see these people; younger with their kids at their feet laughing, remembering what used to make them happy when they were children.
As the years to the past pass through my mind into today this same room, which held so many, is almost empty now.

On Saturday I did some pet sitting what might become a permanent thing by the looks of it.
Or in other words I may have a new member to the family which I am sure will not make Frick to happy but hey, he needs a little exercise to.

Over the years I have had a few pets but never as a kid.
My father used to say people of farms had animals and people in the city had kids who belong on a farm.
When I was about six I asked him for a dog, he got up and went into the kitchen and when he came back he handed me a broom.
He told me this was my dog now and I should take it for a walk all over the house and when I was done, to take the cat and vacuum the carpet.

The first pet I had was Sammy, a Keeshond; I kinda stole him from the mayor.
You see I went to the pet store to have a look and there was this cute little fucker smashing his face up against the glass.
Reminded me of missing last call on a Friday night.
I asked the desk clerk about the dog and he said that the male was sold but the female was not.
There was another dog in there to but man was it ugly, there were going to have that dog for a long time.

I went around and picked up the dog and looked to see if it was the male or female.
I had to really look because he was just one big fur ball but the dog I liked was the male.
The GF said, “I could take the other one.
Fuck that, don’t get me wrong, if they were going to put that dog down I would have taken him home without a second thought but this wasn’t the case.
I walked to the counter with a straight face and told the clerk I wanted this puppy.
He asked me if it was the female and I held the dog up showing him the pile of fur and he said ok.
Twit
I paid him and walked out the door with the Male dog who was named Sammy by the time we got home.
Sammy and I had many adventures together over the next twenty years.

But the story with the mayor isn’t over.
A week later I got a phone call telling me that they had made a mistake and sold me the wrong dog.
I had to give them my name and number, Sammy was a pure breed from champion stock and I had him registered.

I told them I wasn’t going to give back the dog.
I paid for him and I was keeping him.
Two days later the phone rang and this time it was the mayor.
He offered me a generous sum of money for the dog to cover the cost of having him and his purchase.
As I was sitting there talking, Sammy was pulling the fridge door open so he could go in and keep cool.

I told the mayor the same thing I told the store but I did tell him there was another dog at the store he could have.

Sammy was the first last dog I owned but not the only dog.
There was Sasha, an Alaskan malamute who I had with me for seven years before she went off to be with my FIL in the country.
Then there was Mikie who I found wandering the streets one night.
Mikie was a Belgian longhaired Shepard and according to the vet was ten months and already a hundred pounds, a fucken horse.
Mikie was the first one to end up going to the bush with my FIL and when I went up there for a visit once he looked like a bear.

So Saturday I watched a dog I may end up owning.
It’s not like I want a dog; I am a cat person, you don’t have to get up early to walk the cat.
Another thing, this dog is only six months old; do I want to commit another twenty years to another animal?

Frick freaked out when he saw the cage.
I left the dog in a cage until it and the cat got used to each other being in the same place.
Frick doesn’t know what dog is.
To him it’s one hell of a bigger cat.

After about half an hour Frick was standing infront of the cage staring at him, the dog looking back through the bars.
When Frick went into the kitchen I let the dog out to his leash and brought him to the lounge and I played with him but constantly kept an eye out for the cat.
I didn’t think there would be a big problem but its good to be ready.

Frick walked out of the kitchen and went to the cage and stopped dead in his tracks then dropped to his belly.
He started scanning the surrounding area for the escaped giant cat.
Head bobbing up and down, inching his way across the carpet until he spotted goliath then ran away in the direction he knew was safe to look for a slingshot.

The dog spends most of his day in a cage so over the next 6 hours I put him in and out of the cage allowing him to sleep on his bed and to come out and taste some freedom.
When, if I get him there will be no cage after we understand the rules.
No one has bothered to try and train him a little.
You say sit, he runs away.
You say come, he runs away.
The only thing he obeys is “Go run away”

He is a nice dog though and a fast little bugger.
The dog is my SIL’s and she paid $1000 for him.
I don’t know if I would pay that kind of money for a dog but then again I don’t have it.
For a few months it was ok but now the dog barks when its left alone and the neighbours are complaining to the landlord and he has threatened to throw her out.
So she asked if I would like the dog if she gave it to me and I told her it wouldn’t be a problem and it is my niece’s dog so she could still see it when she wanted to.

That is another problem, my niece is a little rough with him.
She is three and thinks the dog could be body slammed on the floor.
The dog isn’t complaining at the moment but it will only be a mater of time before he snaps at her.

So what kind of a dog am I getting?
What’s my preference for dogs?
Like I said, I have owned a Keeshond

An Alaskan malamute


And a Belgian Shepard
I always liked Dobermans and if its with a reputable breeder they are tame.
The ones that are crazy are the result of to much inbreeding.
It would be the same with any breed.

I also like Rottweilers.


But no, neither one of those and in some way it might be a good thing.
A Rottweiler probably eats a lot of food and there is the cat.
I can’t have a dog with a throat big enough to swallow Frick.

Nope

Walker, 6 ft 260 pounds, clad in his black leather jacket walking his dog “Biggie” down the street.

If he ends up looking anything like his mother, am i going to be in trouble with the guys.



Someone out there hates me.
Can you dye a dog black?

Have a nice day

Walker

19 comments:

Luka said...

Awwwww, so cute! You could try buying it a studded collar and calling it "Spike", but I think it's going to be hard to make it look as tough as a Doberman or Rottweiler....

Walker said...

Luka: Maybe a little mouse and Spikes?
A Punk Maltese

Terri said...

Oh, come on...the new addition is so freaking cute! Real men do have lap dogs by the way...

Walker said...

BikerCandy: Yeah well its not exactly what I wanted sitting on my lap LOL

BlazngScarlet said...

Interesting interpretation of a "red-head with big boobs".

No judgement.

Walker said...

Blazngfyre: Now having a redhead would be nicer sitting on my lap :)

nachtwache said...

Well you could dye his fur red. :)
The short haired, little white dog looks a lot like our Chubbs, who's the cutest dog! My husband never wanted a small dog, then I brought Chubbs home, from a garage sale! The people were selling and moving, so they gave their 2 dogs away! Now my husband loves the little guy. He needs regular trims (the dog) his fur just keeps growing, but he looks nothing like the dog in the second photo, his fur is too thick.
He's also real good at running away. He'll dig his way out of the yard and visit the neighbour dogs. You'll love him! :)

Karen said...

Well Walker, first of all I am very sorry for all the heartache you have had with the loss of people dear to you and your family. I know you are worried about your parents, but they sound like they've still got plenty of life left in them yet.

I'm sitting here trying really hard to imagine you walking "Biggie" down the street but that might take more imagination than I am actually capable of....lol. Craig never wanted a lap dog either and we've got two of them just like Biggie. He tried really hard not to love them but he would cry like a baby if anything happened to either one. He wanted to get me a Rottweiler for protection when he goes away to work but all I can think of is that he would think Milly and Bella were breakfast and lunch respectively. I think Frick will love him once he gets used to it as long as Biggie doesn't try to get on his computer and surf the net.

Anonymous said...

WEll..yeah studded collar and leather jacket? What a cutie...well..you know... replace those ribbons with leather straps and that could make for some unique conversation....

Walker said...

nachtwache: He is a nice dog and he spent most of his loose time with me trying to lick me to death

Walker said...

Gypsy: I don;t mind the dog at all. It would be a change around here since Emme passed away and maybe Frick and him can wrestle around a bit.

Walker said...

JYankee: I was thinking aleather vest that said Hells Pooper on the back LOL

h said...

You've taken on an unenviable task adopting a dog that's had Zero training during the crucial first 6 months. Wish you luck.

Truly surprised by Frick's reaction. Most established cats will bully a newcomer doggie. Or at least try.

Walker said...

The Troll: Well he better be trainable because if not his butt is =going to be wrapped up in a diaper intull the day I bury him in it.

Frick is a good cat and would rather have a playmate to beat up on that a corpse he has to walk around

Monogram Queen said...

So sorry about the rash of funerals.. they are depressing (to me). I also understand your words about the older ones dying out and the youngs ones just don't care sometimes (to keep traditions etc). It makes me sad. I'm VERY traditional.

Um your dog needs a Coach collar! Tee Hee!

Walker said...

Patti: Yeah, how did I know you were going to say my dog needs a couch collar and he isn;t my dog yet, he will be when the SIL hands him over and then he gets trained by me.
Trust me I am not going to be letting him out at 4 am.
He either will get nothing to eat and drink after 10pm or is going to have to learn and dance a jig until i wake up in the morning

Lindy said...

I hate going to funerals. And like you said theres fewer & fewer people that care. Hopefully you'll be done with that for a long, long time. Your parents seem to be in good health & have loads of time ahead.
As for the dog. Your a good man Walker to take on a puppy. And yeah, spike its hair up & put a little red dye on the tips.

Peter said...

What a great chic magnet Walker, if you get to keep him I want to hear you say I don't really want him in 6 months time!!!

Dotm said...

OH! He is so cute. I hope your cat learns to like him. Puppies have a way of trying to play with anything it sees. Hope Frick doesn`t try to teach the puppy how to behave or your life sure won`t be dull. I think I would have problems if I ever tried to bring a cat into the house as Sassy drives any neighbors cats or wild cate off my property. Now most neighbors dogs she loves to play with even now at age 12.

Sorry about your losing loved ones. I only had two Uncles left and lost one of them last Saturday, just got an e-mail today letting me know. I am surprised that my cousin- their daughter never let me know since she has my e-mail address. The funeral wasn`t mentioned, so it probably is already over since it has been 5 days now. Another cousin that lives near them in Rochester, NY ,e-mailed to let us know.
He was a special Uncle and will be missed.
Happy Valentines Day to you Walker.