I awake this morning, open the toilet lid, crack open the blinds for some moonlight, glance outside, and freeze. I realize this is a day no pee will come.
Me: “Um, there are some large–possibly dead–animals lying in our driveway…”
Pretty Bride (from the bedroom): “What?”
Me: “Tetonka! Tetonka!”
I summon my guardian and protector–Winnie Cooper, the 30lb Jack Russell/Dachshund mix. We walk onto the front porch.
Still no movement in the driveway. Winnie cowers.
I turn on the porch light. Suddenly, three 120lb+ dogs rise from the driveway and lope across the backyard towards the kudzu-covered drainage culvert the City of Atlanta owns that marks our rear boundary.
Me: “Woooooooolf!”
Friends and Neighbors: —
I decide these must be the wild dogs I’ve read about on our neighborhood listserv. I also decide that no one comes to the rescue of a boy who cries “Wolf” anymore, even if it is the first time.
I notice something lying in the matted grass the beasts have just left. It gleams in the moonlight…something shiny, yet dull…something clearly torn apart by the claws and fangs only the undomesticated beast can instinctively utilize.
I slowly walk towards the carcass; Winnie stays on the porch and whimpers.
A few more steps, and I am able to recognize the shredded carrion: my Wall Street Journal. Those damned dogs had torn it apart like it was a goat in a Buzkashi match.
I run inside, grab my shotgun, sprint into the backyard, and scream, “YOU HOUNDS OF HELL–YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS!” into the silent morning, as awakened floodlights illuminate the next door neighbors’ yard.
All the while, my newspaper gently weeps.
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For more writers who don’t eat mushrooms in the morning, check out these funny blogs.
better than your guitar.
sorry
Wolves waste WSJ. (lame, I know)
Wizz-less warrior and Winnie wave weapons, waken wolves.
Wow!! Wilderness??
I always say that one can’t have a shotgun within too close of a distance.
Actually I never say that.
I usually say one can’t have George Harrison within too close of a distance.
But really, I’m a John Girl.
Good thing you’ve got Winnie as your protector. If it were me, I’d be “wtf” and totally out of there after that Tetonka outburst. Not to mention the Stephen King thing going on out there on your driveway. Funny stuff though, so thanks for sharing.
It’s for the best…nothing you’d want to read in the WSJ right now anyway. Did I mention my 401K is down 20.3% this year?
I so sorry to hear about your ordeal from this morning. I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but there will be another one coming around soon!!
AG, I like the last one!
Meg, I don’t say that either. But perhaps I should start.
Bill, You’d be surprised how vicious the Winn can be. Actually, so would I.
Hypo One, Yeah, I’m down 18%. I checked after reading your comment. I liked it better when I didn’t know.
Kirsten, You scare me. Are you saying you’re going to facilitate bringing more giant beasts into my yard? Is this how you mourn USC’s loss?
You, my dear, are one loud neighbor.
But funny!
At least the “dogs from hell” have good taste. Waiting to hear your take on the big debate. I Tivo’d it, will watch as I have time. Hope wee one is accommodating from the womb.
Nanny Goats, I apologize. The neighbors needed to get up anyway, though.
Harlin, I don’t think I’ll write my “take” on the debate here. I was disappointed in the professionalism displayed by both sides, frankly. It’s obviously been several years, but I don’t recall as much talking over one another in previous debates.
OBVIOUSLY the wolves didn’t know that Winnie Cooper was so dangerously close.
This is fucking hysterical. I just kept thinking of Bumkis’s dogs ala A Christmas Story.
Awesome.
Happy Hr, Very true.
Maggie, If those beasts had taken my Christmas turkey, you can be sure they would’ve been shot, skinned, and make into loincloths.
Nice. Perhaps you should start requesting your paper be printed on the optional antifreeze-infused paper. That way you can at least be assured that while this will occur again, it only will once!