Sandals, Baseball Caps, & Remote Controls

There is a special place in my heart for every dog I’ve ever had the honor and pleasure to have in my life.  Even more, if you would have asked me at any given time in my life, I would have proudly told you that the dog I had at the time was the best I ever had.  Today is not different.

Chalk this one up as the latest in what I hope will be a plethora of entries to The Pit Bull Diaries, because I’m going to spend the next few minutes of your life bragging about my dog.  If any way you feel that your life is currently incomplete, I hope the forthcoming collection of colorful metaphors and verbal brilliance serves to fill that hole.

If I were to compile a top ten list of the dogs I’ve had, Hope the Pit Bull would have no problem appearing on that list.  Completely set aside the fact that I’ve had a total of 8 dogs in my life.  In the short time that she’s been with us, she’s taught us a great deal about a misunderstood breed.  At the same time, she’s also taught us that the human condition isn’t always averse to frolicking in the muck and mire.

It’s not like she’s planted us in front of a chalkboard, donned her professor’s cap, and lectured us on the finer points of doing right by dogs either.  Instead, she’s used her body language and behavior to school us in the way things are.  One of her most predominant behaviors is that look of guilt she has whenever she looks at you, especially when she’s done nothing wrong.  Couple that with the general hesitance and mistrust she shows to parties from outside the organization (especially men); I can only surmise the first year of her life before she ever came to us may have been a tough one.

On the other hand, her protective streak is impressive to say the least.  Sometime back, some drunken bonehead made his way to the compound late at night, opened the unlocked the door, and wandered into our vast foyer.  Hope had been snoozing on the couch next to the dozing CFO; however the instant she heard that door open she came alive and made a move to escort our unwanted guest out of the compound by way of her 235 lb PSI bite strength and its proper application to the man’s testicles. 

Fortunately, said contents of the intruder’s scrotum overrode the brain’s instructions to do something stupid and simultaneously made their own decision to get the hell out of there as expeditiously as possible.

On her own will, Hope slept in the foyer for the next couple days.

The whole event provided an interesting legal consideration.  Here in Texas, my 2nd Amendment rights would have allowed me to shoot the idiot if I had felt that my life was in danger.  What would have happened if Hope had mauled him under the same premise?  I’ll throw that one to the high school debate team.

At the same time, Hope’s protective streak has proven to be a liability.  Just the other day, our six year old nephew burst through the door without knocking or ringing the bell.  From Hope’s point of view, there’s nothing like a meal that comes to you.

As of this posting, Hope has two more weeks of obedience training.  During the second time around, our beloved Pit Bull has learned all of the basics like sit, stay, come, and that being walked up strategically placed hula-hoop and then commanded to sit in the middle of it really isn’t that bad of a thing to do.  She’s also learned that bull dogs don’t like her, and that she’s not particularly fond of them either.

There’s still the issue of some of her behavior off of the leash though.  This last summer, I purchased the highest quality sandal which $12 could get me at Wal-Mart.  Within a matter of days, my $12 sandals had become a $12 chew toy thanks to the efforts of Hope.

In the past few days, Hope has also shown some disloyalties in the sporting world toward two of the professional franchises in which my previous home of Houston currently hosts.  In her own defense, I know she would have shredded any gear sporting the logo of that craptacular football team from Dallas.  The only thing that kept her from doing so is the fact that such paraphernalia is banned from the premises.  Indoor plumbing is okay around here but sporting the blue and silver is a major no-no.

Even more frustrating is the item she selected last night.  It’s been several months since she even entertained the notion, however she went at it like a former smoker to a Marlboro after running out of patches. 

That’s right people.  Hope chewed up yet another silver AT&T U-Verse remote last night, and rendered it to the status of paper weight.  She had a choice between that, and remotes for the TV and DVD player (both black).  Even to this day, it can still be said that Pit Bulls prefer the taste of a silver remote over a black one.

I went on eBay this morning with the intention of ordering a replacement.  Previously I had just gone through AT&T, however I wanted to see if I could get one for cheaper than the requisite $15.  Ironically enough, I found a vendor that was selling them in lots of ten.  After paying for the product itself along with the shipping and handling, I would still come out better than paying for one from AT&T.

Have I mentioned before that the internet is a wonderful thing?

The most irritating thing about buying ten remotes at a time is the thought that I could really ever need that many.  I imagine I could use them to teach Hope to fetch, but wouldn’t that be sending her the wrong message?

I guess I’ll have to break out the Yuck.

Randy Tharp

TharpSter is a husband to one woman, a father to two kids, a master to two dogs, an occasional cubical occupant, and unable to make up his mind on an adequate theme for this website.

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