I was out early this morning. Dogs need walking as they occasionally do or they do what they do where you want NO do-do. As we sauntered along, me sniffing back terminally frozen sinuses and he sniffing every other dog’s claim to territorial ascendency since the dawn of time, I saw my buddy Charlie walking his AKC Registered mutt: Barack Holder.
I swear this is the bloody dog’s name.
The dog was acquired because Charlie developed a hearing problem mainly because his 4 (four) children (all under the age of twelve) have alternately screamed, balled, cried and whined about how they’d: walk it, train it, feed it and love it if they could only PLEASE, OH PLEASE, OH PLEASE DADDY CAN WE HAVE A DOG!!!!!!
So I asked how that worked out. “You see who’s walking him don’t you?” Then he muttered something about a horse’s backside and was nearly jerked off of his feet as Bronto-Mutt lunged to inspect a steaming pile of fresh dog poop. As we walked along with fits and starts I asked him about the name.
“So Charlie; why’d you name the dog Barack Holder?”
My dog leapt to inspect a hydrant while Barack aimlessly wandered into a spiral progression sure to trip Charlie if he didn’t step out of the bulls-eye soon. Charlie sidestepped the effort to kill him through benign strangulation. Barack went on about his business with a look of canine equivalency meaning: “I’ll get you sooner or later.”
“When we first got this idiot we were sure he’d be a healthy addition to the family. The kids would learn responsibility and caring for those less capable than themselves. They’d come to understand they’re apex creatures and therefore would need to be merciful and just in dealing with this dumb animal.” Charlie looked at me from beneath a hooded brow and muttered, “Jeez was I ever wrong.”
“It started out, I walk him every morning at 5:00 a.m. like clockwork or I’ve got more fluid on the floor than they had water on the deck of the Titanic. This guy’s vapors are no joy either.” Charlie pulled on the leash to stop Barack from rolling deliriously on something long dead and left behind by an unknown predator or simply the diseases contracted from living a profligate lifestyle.
My dog was just as ecstatically licking himself and showed no signs of stopping. Then Charlie turned to me and with a look of sadness continued: “Now I feed him, and bathe him and watch him dig holes in my once manicured lawn as he goes about his business of destroying everything I’ve worked for my whole life. I hung some deer hide out to dry. Barack pulled it down and shredded it with some stray dogs from the neighborhood.”
“My wife and I went to work. The kids went to school. We left him in the yard to be a watchdog. He watched the burglars steal everything we had. They even took the Beware of Dog sign.”
“You had insurance didn’t you?”
“Yeah but I had the single payer option. It cost me more than you’d believe.”
“I’m sorry, but what about the name?”
Charlie started reeling in the four-legged “come-along” steadily stressing his patience. “I was walking this fool one morning and I determined Alzheimer’s does affect dogs. He forgot what he was doing. He walked around my ankles and tangled the lead. Then he hiked his leg and peed – ON ME!”
Charlie sadly shook his head, as I strained to avoid peeing on him as well I wanted to laugh so badly.
“I pulled him home, put him in the yard and went into the house just in time for the wife to command me to fill out the AKC paper work and name this fool. In light of the fact Barack Obama and Eric Holder have been peeing on us and trying to give us the impression they’re just doing what they think we want them to do; I figured the name Barack Holder fit the bill. None of them is worth their output.”
I think he’s on to something there.
Thanks for listening.
Advertisement
Advertisement