Friday, March 12, 2010


A friend of mine called today and told me that his daughter had a dog she had to get rid of because she was moving. She had found the dog a couple of months ago and had been searching for his owner with no luck.
He also said the dog was 3 or 4 years old, well behaved and housebroken.
Wrong, wrong and wrong.
He's part Shepherd and judging by his tail and black mouth, part Chow. His name used to be Charlie but now it's CharlieGoddammit.
I went and got the dog and saw right off that it was 18 months old at the most. It was pulling on the leash but once I got it in the truck it settled right down and even let me drive. BUT, as soon as I got the sonofabitch in the house it went on a rampage, tearing around the house, squirted on the door, then chased the main evil cat right up to the top of the cabinet on the mud porch where she's still up there yowling.
He's also dripped water from his bowl all over the carpet, knocked over and drank a beer, ate a can of Copenhagen, stole a box of 308 Winchester, and farts continuously.
So basically I got a dog that drinks, chews, farts, is a pig, likes things that go bang and chases pussy.
Fuck, I got a dog with my personality......