So, if you haven't already guessed, we are still the temporary owners of a seven month old Pit Bull. She is, fingers crossed, going to a new and permanent home today and henceforth I shall be able to concentrate on things other than fleas, murderers at the door, shoulders being ripped out of sockets (from her bad pulling habit when walking), and guilt-ridden tears.
I was going to write a post entitled, "Thank You, Sara McLachlan" with much dripping sarcasm, as all I could think of for the past two weeks was that #@&(@!! commercial with the homeless pets and her little ditty in the background. Every time this dog would rest her head on my leg (ahhh... heartstrings!), or just let out a long sigh, the strains of that damned "Angel" song could be heard in the background of my mind. But, I've moved past the guilt (plus, she's not going to a shelter), and have a different tale to tell today.
Apart from the fact that "Mimi" (my son spells it "Meme"... not sure if that's intentional..?) is a complete couch/bed hogger, is ready to jump into action at any small sound, snores, and is totally "intrigued" by Mario and Penelope (cat and guinea pig), she's generally a good dog. She did, however, have a tummy ache during the week, which caused her to poop three times in the house. And not the easy kind of poop, but, diarrhea (sorry to get gross here), which is not easily picked up by a plastic bag. Anyway, since I am always very concerned with the bodily functions of my canine friends, I decided to take her for one last walk before attempting to settle in for the night.
It was just after Midnight, and, much to your surprise, I'm sure, I do not normally carouse the streets of my neighborhood at such an hour. Now, I happen to live on a very busy street, which is pretty active with loud cars and emergency vehicles at all hours of the day. Our side street leads to a cul-de-sac neighborhood, which is where we traveled for our evening constitutional. It was strangely quiet. I happen to be one of those (demented cat ladies) people who talks to pets, and I felt a little like Ichabod Crane as I was talking to Mimi as she pulled me down the street.
About half way down the block, I smelled and then spotted a sort of "campfire" over to our left. Now, there are some woodsy areas around, but nothing that would attract any local campers. I didn't think much of it at first, as I had seen a tent outside of a home (in the front of the house....???) in that general area, and had kind of presumed that maybe some local Dad was doing a pretend camping thing with his kid. It struck me as odd that the fire seemed pretty far away from the house, and, if there was room for a campfire back there, that weird tent should have been back there, too. And further, was I hearing the sounds of chopping? Why would someone be chopping $hit after Midnight? In a neighborhood?
The chopping noise stopped temporarily, and my companion and I hurried past the area. Towards the part of the street with no streetlamps, close to a cemetery. Of course, this is the area where Mimi wants to frolic and play, which I was having none of. She had already done her business, and I was just going to finish the block and turn around, in case she had anything else to get rid of. We turned and approached the serial wood chopper's area again, the chopping had recommenced. And you know, it didn't sound like wood that was being chopped. It actually kind of sounded like someone pounding a metal post or perhaps murdering a neighbor, something like that. Of course, I'm thinking in my head, "What if something bad is going on there? What if someone is in trouble? You always hear on the news 'well, we did hear someone screaming and some sounds of gunshots, but we didn't think nothin' of it.' Should I investigate? Call the police? What if the weirdo is watching me now and follows me home? WTF is he doing chopping stuff after Midnight!?"
I decided to be the good samaritan and ignore the whole thing, and scurried quickly towards home. As we approached, Mimi went into freak out mode. There's something on the side of our house which always gets her attention for some reason, but this time, she was growling and pulling. Growling a lot. I was thinking it was perhaps a chipmunk or a skunk, but then I thought... I thought... I heard other growls. Growls separate from Mimi's. I started to pull her away, and, despite my intense upper arm workouts and the fact that I'm no delicate flower, I could not move her. Growl... growl..... pulling... growl..... other growl...... Catherine pulling and acting like all is well.... growl.... pulling.... other growl.... I finally had to lift the dog by the collar and shove her into the stairwell. And even as we were going up the stairs, I could swear I still heard other growling. It occurred to me that it may have been a human teenager, thinking it funny to taunt a Pit Bull after Midnight, but, why would someone be moronic enough to do that? Particularly when the dog's temporary owner is obviously courageous (deranged) enough to walk past axe murderers and cemeteries wearing some strange getup pulled from the laundry pile with no regard to fashion?
Anyway, by then I was pretty well into my watched-too-many-scary-movies mode, and retrieved a knife from the block and left the hall lights lit. Needless to say it was many hours before I was able to catch some sleep. I survived the night, and today the sun is shining, there are no police investigators knocking at my door, and I'll be going for my walk soon. If I come across any dismembered neighbors, I'll be sure to let you know.
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