NOW The Time Is Right

It's a fine line between a dog and a chicken. Now, those of you who know me doubtlessly realize that I have a generally kind disposition toward God's creatures. So, by logical extension, you must know that when there comes a fuzzy little friend that I can't deal with, it's usually not my problem. I have been terrorized by my neighbor's dogs for as long as I can remember. From the age of six, I had to do nothing more than exit my house and I would be assailed by the raucous vocalizations of Charlie and Sammy (or something like that). For years I plotted my revenge. I considered throwing them chicken bones, a method which, I'm told, is a sure fire way to kill a dog, although I've never figured that one out. In the end, it was decided that it was too messy. After a while, the barking was met by me not with cowering fear but with a wry smile as I said under my breath "yeah, just go ahead and bar, you'll get what's coming to you". I was kind of a dark kid, If you haven't picked that up. Anyway, after years of plotting and being unable to bring myself around to any decisive action, both dogs finally died of natural causes. So, after a beloved pet of 14 years bites the dust, what is the logical course of action? Sit quietly and contemplate all the hours of ceasless exhuberance and undying canine devotion? Or perhaps you could learn to cherish your children more and be thankful that they don't eat embroidered hand towls, barf them up on the front steps and stand over their little present with their head cocked and one ear folded over as if to say "please hit me with a rolled up newspaper"? No, honey I just CAN'T stand the silence! Let's go get another dog NOW! Oh, and the old ones weren't loud enough. Make sure you get one that barks like a strangled chicken! Now the "chicken-mutt", as I have come to call him, resides beneath my bedroom window and diligently makes sure I don't accidentally fall asleep. Ah, man's best friend. Anyway, if you're wondering if this little narrative has a point, it doesn't. I was just feeling a little irritated by those dogs today. Hopefully I'll break this rut of uninteresting and generally unamusing rambling once I get to California. Until then, keep your chicken bones handy, you just might need them.