Ned came home right after work last night, so that we could take the dogs on a long walk, and also so that he didn't have to hear it from me about how he's always at the goddamn gym all night. Ned's job is super-stressy, and the gym is, like, how he unstresses, so basically I am an excellent girlfriend.
But a long walk can be unstressy, too, right?
"Which cur do you want?" asked Ned, handing me both leashes. When you put the Gentle Leaders on the dogs, Edsel has 50 fits of jumping and squealing and leaping and setting off fireworks like it's the Chinese new year, whereas Tallulah stands stock still. It's like she's in a game of freeze tag. She abhors the Gentle Leader. Tallulah wishes for no leader. Tallulah would be one of those people who moves to the woods and declares she has no government. Tallulah would be too indifferent to everyone else to bomb a post office, however. She might blow up the treat factory, in hopes it'd rain Milk Bones. But she wouldn't mail that bomb. She'd hide in the hilly area behind the treat factory with one of those bombs that has a handle on it that you push down.
But I digress. I can't believe you can Google "cartoon bomb with a handle that you push down" and you get this. God, the Internet is my favorite invention. Thank you, Al Gore.
So I took It's Raining Men and his leapy disco moves last night, while Ned took Easter Island. You have to tug to get her to even move, then she hangs her head low like the sad horse Rhett stole for Scarlett in Gone With the Wind, and I like how I say the title of the movie like you see so many other shows with people named Rhett and Scarlett.
If you knew how bad that dog pulled when she DOESN'T have a Gentle Leader, you'd ignore her pitiful old mule act, too. She has no mule power with me.
Oh, it was a lovely night. The flowers were blooming again, and two houses down it's evident that in a few days, the neighbor's entire yard will be all camellias all the time. We were having a fine walk.
Till the dog charged us.
Okay, I'm done. Mostly because I couldn't find any other good dramatic reactions to link to. Wasn't I just saying I loved the Internet? Now am annoyed. Just last night, after the DRAMATIC DOG CHARGING happened, Ned and I went to dinner and I said, "I love our waitress." Then she came back and said something annoying. "You hate our waitress now, don't you?" asked Ned. I did. "You should stop that. It's not charming," said Ned.
You know what's not charming?
As soon as I got the camera out last night, Ned assumed this annoying expression, and BY THE WAY the waitress ran over. "You want me to take your picture!?!" I was all, dude, leave us alone. We're doing a thing, here.
Ned kept trying to maintain an angry face to RUIN MY BLOG, but I kept snapping him. My Uncle Jim used to say about my quiet stepfather, "One day that guy's gonna snap." My Uncle Jim never got to see me torment Ned.
So we're walking not even far from our house, when this DOG CHARGED US fifty cents. Okay, he did not remotely charge us any money, but he was on the side porch with his people, see, and I've seen these people do this before, have that dog on their porch with them all unleashed.
Let me just make this public service announcement to you ASSHOLES who have loose dogs. "Oh, my dog is FINE!" Yeah, maybe your dog is, but MY dogs, who are following the RULES by being on a LEASH are NOT fine with dogs coming up to them. They still need walks, though, is the thing. So keep your GODDAMN DOGS on a LEASH so that they don't RUN UP to MY dogs, who are MINDING THEIR OWN BUSINESS.
God, that annoys me. One person once had a PUPPY run up, and if my dogs had killed a puppy I'd have never been the same.
So what happened this time was, this yellow dog, who you'd think would be in the same gang as my dogs, really came charging out with his mind on his murder and his murder on his mind. I mean, it wasn't a waggy-tailed hello. He had a growl going right away, and his people were all, "PETER! GET BACK HERE, PETER!"
And see? You think your dog is fine, but your dog sees something good enough, he's gonna ignore you. Two dogs from another gang count as something good enough.
I did what I always do, which is drop the leash. I know that sounds counterintuitive, but they will be a lot less awful if they aren't actually attached to me. At least that's what I told Ned when it was over, and Ned said, "I don't see how Edsel could have been more awful."
Because what happened was, Edsel TORE over to that dog, got in him the STREET (was numb with terror), THREW that dog down, and commenced to kicking the SHIT right out that dog.
You heard me. Edsel. Ned had Talu's collar up tight, and she didn't even bark.
"PETER! PETER!" yelled the family who'd had their dog loose.
"EDSEL!" Ned and I were screaming. Cars had to come to a stop while the yellow balls of fury went at each other in the road.
Finally, Ned walked over there and pulled everyone apart. The people picked up their dog. "This was entirely our fault," said the woman. "I am so sorry."
"No, I'M sorry," I said. I mean, Edsel really beat that dog up. "Was there blood?" I asked Ned after, because I was too stunned to know for sure. Ned said there wasn't, and we didn't hear the dog yelp, but we plan to go over there today to check on him. I mean, Edsel!
Every time he does something manly, I can't get over it.
"He was protecting his family," said Ned. "He did what he was supposed to do."
I mean, I guess so. That dog really did run out aggressively.
When I got up today, Eds was on the guest bed. "I let him sleep there," Ned told me. "For being a ferocious boy."
Oh, great. Now I've got Ned and Edsel gettin' all manly together.
So that's the story of murdery-pants Eds and the charging dog. Tune in tomorrow for Edsel's Got a Gun.