Jenny and I are getting a dog this weekend. Not our dog, though. A journalist Jenny works with did a story on an animal shelter. When he was there, he couldn’t help but pick out a dog. But he’s also moving into a new house this weekend, so he asked them if they could keep the dog for a few days until the move is complete. They said no; they’re putting the dog to sleep if he doesn’t take it by Saturday. Nice animal shelter. So we’re taking the dog on Saturday or some time tonight, and we’re giving it back to him on Sunday night or Monday morning once he’s done with his move. It’s a 6 year old dog, looks like some kind of hunting dog with friendly but sad eyes; she’s been through a lot. We’re going to take her for walks, play with her, let her run round and crap all over our backyard. The dog’s going to love it.
Jenny’s going to want to get a dog now.
So I go for a walk with my dog, Jake, down to a little pond in the woods where last summer I got the crap scared out of me from a beaver smacking its tail against the water. I saw the beaver last week sliding down a muddy embankment, splashing into the pond through a small hole in the ice. I’m thinking I’ll take another look to see what I can see.
When I get down to the pond, the first thing Jake does is run out onto the thin ice. If I go after him, I’ll fall through in about two seconds. So I just stand there in silence at the edge of the pond waiting for him to take the plunge into doggy heaven. He’s a big heavy dog. Falling through would not be a problem, especially the way he’s bolting out there in leaps and bounds. If he stops moving, his weight will settle and the ice will break and he’ll sink to the bottom; I can see it now. So I decide not to call him back. Let him run and hopefully he won’t stop until he gets to the other side.
But right in the middle of the pond, realizing that I’m not following him, he spins around and plops his ass down right there on the ice. Just sits there looking at me with one hind leg tucked under the other, not moving a muscle except for his tongue hanging out dripping with drool. One ear chocked up. The other one flopped down.
Continue reading Another Dog Story
I almost hit a raccoon today. He shot out from some bushes on the right and I had to swerve to avoid squashing its pretty head. I felt bad about running over a squirrel once; I don’t know what I’d do if I hit something big. Probably nothing.
I’m considering posting every stupid thing I come across on the World Wide Web that piques my interest, similar to what J-Walk churns out everyday.
I’m in Flint again, watching too much television; however, I just watched an excellent movie: My Date With Drew. It’s a documentary about a guy trying to get a date with Drew Barrymore:
Don’t worry, it’s not like he’s expecting a relationship or anything. He’s just talking about one dinner here. Heck, the girl’s gotta eat, right?
This is a movie for anyone who’s ever imagined getting a date with the person of their dreams…and then realized they don’t have a chance in hell. But despite the odds, Brian finds encouragement in the words of Drew Barrymore…
“If you don’t take risks, you’ll have a wasted soul.”
WAIT! It’s good! It’s funny and personal, taking you on the ups and downs of his attempts at trying to get a date with a famous movie star. After watching it you’ll want to make a movie about your own stupid goals in life.
Update: An accurate review of it from Berardinelli.