Monday, January 24, 2005

Why are Mondays so difficult?

Before I post, I want to point out that I have fixed up my RSS feed to the best of my ability. My current feed (since the blogstreet feed has been disabled by blogstreet) is:

You may subscribe to this feed, but I still don't know why the search function on bloglines will only turn up my defunct blogstreet feed. Any help would be welcome!

My Monday morning

As my husband was rushing out the door to a meeting, he announced that he didn't have time to pick up the lawn.

Huh? I went to look outside and this was my greeting:

I was livid. Just seething. The last thing I wanted to do this morning was to pick up yucky, disgusting, dirty trash.

Now, we have two dogs who live at our house 365 days a year. They have never knocked over a trash can and attacked the comments. Our Dawg (Liam) has been known to pick up some of the tasty bits easily available on the ground, but this attack was far too much effort for our lazy dog. Our older dog, Jessie, is just much too refined to do such a thing. Add in the fact that both were treated with about a pound of beef chuck scraps from my chili making yesterday, neither seems to be the villain.

That leaves this fellow:

This is Ace. Actually we don't know if his name is Ace or Deuce--Anna settled on Ace, but I think our neighbor has referred to him as Deuce. Nonetheless, he is our neighbor's dog. It was pretty cold last night, so Jessie and Liam had their toasty dog beds to sleep on and the option of the warm garage. Why Ace/Deuce wasn't at home in his doggy kennel points to the crux of the problem--our neighbor. This neighbor had a previous dog who basically moved into our house for three years before he died of old age. I refuse to go through the same thing with Ace. Not only is he destructive, but he looks like a pit bull. I have a two year old. She is afraid of the dog. I don't trust him. This won't work.

I feel bad for the dog since he obviously isn't getting the attention and care he needs. And, we do live in Texas. In the country. That means that our dogs are pretty much allowed to go visiting. Our neighbor's dogs do show up to say hi. Our dogs visit our neighbors (especially Auntie Theo and her 5 dogs--Auntie Theo has a warm heart and treats!). Our neighborhood tolerates this approach to dogs on one condition--the dogs are friendly and well behaved (mostly). Ace doesn't fit into either category. So, I guess I have to pay a visit to the neighbor. Grr.

Now for those of you who live a) not in Texas b)in the city or suburbs, you might be thinking--just call the pound! Well, we live outside the city, which means you can't call the pound. They won't visit us. Our only other option is to haul the dog to the pound, pay the $50 fee (yes, we pay even though we rescue the dog), and then have him put down immediately because he is part pit bull. I don't like the dog, but it isn't his fault that he is running amuck. I would rather have a talk with the neighbor.

Just a side note to this story. Our neighbor across the street had a number of nasty, mean German Shepherds. Neighborhood rumor has it that he was trying to teach them to attack people (yes, it is Texas!). Our neighbors warned him that, should the dogs get out of their pen, they wouldn't return. We have no idea who decided that this was to be enforced--certainly my husband and I are too soft hearted to do anything to a dog, no matter how mean (see above dog story and add to that dog who lived at our house 3 years--dogs talk and tell each other that the folks over there are suckers, no matter what you do). But the mean dogs got out and disappeared. Ahem. It's very darwinian in the country.

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