Yeah, yeah...Happy Halloween...assuming you don't have five goddamned dogs in the house.

This is going to end up being kinda long, but I can't help it.  Some things would mean nothing without the back story, and that's the case here.  Besides that, if you have enough time to read this crap, how important can your time be, am I right?


This is Jeny, my daughter, in whom I am well pleased.   (1)  That little dog she's messing with is her son, my granddog, Cupid.  (2)  Jen adores the little shit, and woe betide the individual that gives him a hard time.

In addition to The Cupe, there are three other miniature canines in the house, of varying designs and sizes.  Point is, there are plenty of doggies to mess with, cuddle, play with, walk, drive around with, sleep with...pretty much whatever you want to do, you know? (3)


But...


Jeny has always wanted a big dog.  Not just,  you know, a medium sized kind, a BIG DOG.  She has a pretty good friend who raises fairly high quality pit bulls, and she thinks she's in love with them.


Well, that's fine, she can have a big dog any ole time she wants to, all she has to do is move into her own place.  But, ain't gonna be no BIG DOGS in my house.  And if there were going to be any, which there are not, it sure as shit wouldn't be a fucking pit bull, you know what I'm sayin'?


Look, my kid is a bear cub. She loves wrestling and messing around with Cupid, and taking him out and fetching and all that happy crap...but...I mean...he weighs ten pounds, you know? How much roughhousing are you really going to be able to do?  That is THE magnet for Jen, at least in large part.


Well...get a job, get your own place, get your bigassed dog, kid...not here...

...ahem...

Meet Cash, Jeny's new pure bred, with papers and all, pit bull puppy.

Ok, ok, but listen, here's the story...

"Meet" Princess, Jeny's close friend. (4)  She has also wanted a big dog, and so, in concert with Jeny's good friend who raises pits, the two of them bought Cashmere...Cash, with my agreement that Cash could stay here two days a week, only, under the following conditions, only:

1. Jeny can't leave her here for me to babysit, until she is fully housebroken,  Cash, not Jeny.  She's only four months old, but must weigh...35 pounds or so, I guess...she pisses a fucking river.  First, I wouldn't clean that up even if I wasn't a cripple, and could do it, but I am a cripple, and can't.  So if Cash is here, Jeny is here,  till she's fully trained.  (She's doin' good.)
2. If the dog shows any untoward behavior, not including normal puppy stuff, she's out.
3. If the dog shows any inclination to chew anything of mine, she's out.
4. If the dog is too active and too large and either annoys me or makes me nervous, she's out.
5. If she barks or whines, other than on the rare occasion, she's out.
6. If, after having a big dog, a pit bull, around for a while, she makes me nervous, uncomfortable, or annoys me for any reason,  or no reason, she's out.
7. If the dog bites anyone for any reason, or no reason, she's out.
8. If the dog bites YOU, I'll kill IT.
   

I also expressed a fair amount of trepidation and reservation about how this will all turn out, long term, and mentioned that I didn't think she'd look particularly attractive with all those bite marks.

My provisos and concerns were acknowledged and will be respected.  (5)

Alright.  They've had her for a couple weeks, now.

Cash has been here since early afternoon.  She's cute, playful, loving, just wants attention and love and to play, nap and eat. She's a puppy, but a fuckin' HUGE one, and she's all over the place.  Not running or like that, but I'm not used to a  dog the size of a dinosaur  roaming thru my home.  On top of that, Cupid is warming up to her pretty well, and they play a  lot.  You know how dogs play and jump and have tugs of war and the wrestling matches and shit?  Now, imagine one of them is a ten pounder, skinny, lanky...and the other is a  baby tyrannosaurus, and you'll be holding the right image in your head. It's cute, and it's funny, but it's also tiresome.

Maya, the three pounder, refuses to have anything to do with Cash.  She stays away, and if Cash strolls up to her, Maya grumbles at her and scurries off to her basket. She's old and unpleasant at times.

Jackie is afraid of Cash, and hides under the computer desk if she comes too close.   Cash hasn't been the least bit aggressive, so I don't know what the deal is with Jack...meh, he'll get over it, eventually, I suppose.

And my baby, Molly?  She barely tolerates Cash, and clearly doesn't trust her. She'll walk around along side her, scolding her if she gets too close to the three areas where Molly has stuff stashed, and making sure she eats HER food, and leaves the food for the real dogs alone.

Hey, it's getting better, and it's only a few hours, two days a week.

...wheeze...

So, tonight, Halloween evening, I'm sitting right here, where I am now, the front door open, a nice, wooden tray holding miniature Snickers, Butterfingers, Baby Ruths, and Milky Ways, not in a bowl, but in a big, very cool, mountain of baby candy bars, at my elbow.  I'm a little bit stressed from all the dog goings-on and dog  politics and all, but...hey, I got candy, you know?

A knock comes at the door...TWICK OR TWEAT...it's four or five little kids and their milf moms...I open the screen door, and grab a handful of little candy bars, and suddenly there was a huge blue-gray puppy, heading out the door right into the middle of the crowd at my front door.  I grabbed her collar, barely, with one hand, and yanked her back into the house...right into Jackie, come to see what was going on at the door, who started  barking, which got Molly barking, which, apparently, frightened Cash, because she bolted back into the house, and crashed into the tray with the candy on it, sending  that sonofabitch flying, and spraying candy like it was shot out of a fucking cannon.  The kids started to cry, or one of them did, and the mothers seemed to be apologizing to me for something.  Cupid and Molly are now  insane with the fucking barking, I don't know where Cash is, but also don't much give a shit, as my temper is spiking, never a good thing, and Jeny, ever aware that dogs barking and running and hearing crashes ain't normal in MY house, along with me nearly screaming GODDAMN IT TO HELL,  she comes running, and begins to apologize and try and calm me down cuz she can read the signals and she knows I'm a quarter inch away from going thru the roof...

And, oh, yeah, one of the dogs pissed all over the floor. Probably Jackie.

Jeny is getting ready to go to a party. (6)   Cash is going to be taken to her OTHER mommy's when she leaves.

Fuck you, Happy Halloween.



(1) 
This being Sunday, and all, I thought I'd toss in a little bit of god talk, so's you didn't think I didn't know my Bible.
(2)
Hey, don't blame me for the name. It wasn't my idea.  I'd have named him Tyreese or something, but Jeny's dog, Jeny's name...well, not her name, exactly, but she gets to name the hound, is what I'm saying.
(3)
Except involving them in your sex life, if you've a bent in that direction.  I mean, Cupid is the best hung of the two boys, but, still...unless something the diameter of your little finger turns you on, penetration would just be a waste of time.  (Unless you were one of them really little midgets, maybe, but I don't think of them having a sex life.   And when I do, it makes me feel kinda oogy.)  And if you're thinking in terms of the work that could be done with their tongues, forget it. You oughta see how small those little things are.
(4)
Groucho eyebrow wiggle, eyebrow wiggle...
(5)
Damned straight, kid.
(6)
Halloween is a Holy Day of Obligation with those people.