Hope & The Guitar

Here’s a little known fact that you may not know about Hope, my beloved pit bull.

She’s afraid of my guitar.


Come to think of it, you just got two little known facts for the price of one if you didn’t know

that I have and/or play a guitar.

It’s actually been awhile since I picked it up. I learned how to play when I was 12, and have played on and off every since.

*shudders upon realizing it’s been over 30 years*

Anyway, I pulled it out the other night and tuned it up while watching Donald Trump fire Lou Ferigno. Hope was in the room at the time and didn’t really appreciate the newly found concept of resonance when striking your basic G chord.

As I played for awhile and reminded myself on why I didn’t pursue a career in music, Hope took on a certain demeanor reminiscent of those times when we play fetch with Faith and a tennis ball. The ears drooped, her head hung low, and she gave me those sad puppy dog eyes accented with the green aura of her deadly laser vision.

At one point, I was a bit concerned that she would use said laser vision to render my guitar a pile of kindling.

Fortunately she didn’t, and she showed a great deal of gratitude when I put it away.

As an aside, I’ve got to wonder what would happen if I had taken up the bagpipes all those years ago. Makes you wonder if a protective pit bull would defend her master against an aggressive, yet noisy octopus.

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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