Sorry I’ve been away for so long. I was distracted. I could fill you in on the root of it all, but nobody would benefit from such an exercise. Everything’s been said a million times; we’d be breaking no new ground. So, let’s just get back into it, shall we?
We celebrated our dog Andy’s 12th birthday this past weekend. And by “celebrated,” I mean we said, “Happy birthday, Andy!” He was born in June 1, 2001. Our kids can’t really remember a time when he wasn’t around. The older boy vaguely recalls the day we brought him home, but they’ve both grown-up with good ol’ Black Lips Houlihan.
And in honor of Andy turning 12, here’s a brief State of the Dog report:
A few nights ago I let him out to sling urine, serve-up some yard crullers, or whatever was on his mind — and he was viciously attacked by a standard poodle. That ridiculous beast is owned by our next-door neighbors (not the Half-Shirts, the people on the other side), and it’s mean as hell. It looks poofter, but acts Mike Tyson.
The thing came tearing around the corner of the house, and was upon Andy like a lion on a zebra. WTF?! I had a full pint of Yuengling in one hand, and was trying to get between those two snarling and barking and snapping hounds… without spilling my beer. I kicked that tall-ass dog a couple of times, but it just kept coming. It was a high-stepper with murder in its heart.
Andy held his own for a few seconds, but quickly switched to retreat mode. That spindly bastard was deranged. I was about to throw my beer on it, when the son from next door came sprinting across the front yard and practically tackled the thing. I was just standing there, blinking real fast.
He wrangled it, and started dragging it by its collar back to their house. “Sorry,” he mumbled, and I didn’t answer. Andy was unhurt, but all whipped-up on adrenaline. He sat in the middle of our living room floor for 15 minutes, panting at an accelerated clip.
And last night I was dragging our trash cans to the curb, after work. This was at 2:30 in the morning, and I could hear that giant poodle inside the house next door completely losing its mind. It was barking like mad, and possibly throwing its body against a wall. Holy shit. That thing will probably kill me someday. And that would be just my luck… brought down by an abnormally tall poodle. I don’t care for any of it.
Of course, Andy is a little crazy too. Yesterday he wanted out, but the mail hadn’t come yet. So, I put him on a leash, and walked around the yard with him. I couldn’t risk the mailman arriving while Andy was running free. Black Lips HATES the mailman, and would probably go airborne on his ass.
He snorkled around the yard for a few minutes, read and sent some peemail, and finally humped-up like a kangaroo for the finale.
And as he was in mid-shit, the mailman came walking up. Unable to abort, Andy continued to dump, while barking and baring his teeth. He never abandoned his shit-stance, but still voiced his displeasure at the presence of the evil delivery person.
The mailman chuckled, and continued on down the block. And once Andy finished the task at hand, he started kicking like a bull, and sent a divot flying halfway to the street. “That’ll show him!” I said, and he strutted into the house, like George Jefferson. Clearly, he was pleased with himself.
Unfortunately, Andy is starting to show his age a bit. He’s not nearly as active as he used to be, and his teeth are starting to collapse. In a year they’ll be fully horizontal, if something isn’t done. He has buck teeth on the bottom now, and you can see a lot of them, even when his mouth is closed. I’ve started calling him Chief Fallen Tooth.
Because of his teef problem, we’ve had to switch to a moist dog food that comes in individual serving pouches. And man, he loves it. He’s constantly wanting another pouch. He keeps telling me, with his spoon-bending stare: “Pouch me! Pouch me again!!” He’s becoming a pouchaholic, and we might have to send him to the Frisky Ford Center.
But, according to this website, he’s only 69. My parents are older than that, and still kicking ass. So, we’ll hopefully have the pleasure of his company for a few more years. He’s a good friend.
And so, I’m pleased to announce… the State of the Dog is strong!
I’ll see you guys again next time. It probably won’t be tomorrow, but I’ll shoot for Saturday/Sunday. And I’ll get my shit back together next week, I promise.
Have a great day.
Now playing in the bunker
Use the Surf Report’s webhost: HostGator!
Long time reader, first time firster.
Long time fister, third time seconder
Funniest update in a long time.
Happy Birthday, Andy!
I’ll admit I was a bit scared when I saw Andy’s picture. “He’s been gone almost a week! Oh no, Andy’s picture is front & center! Not Andy…..” then I saw it was his birfday.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ANDY! Glad to see you’re still kickin’ and not where I thought you were…
Oh, and great update, Jeff. I was laughing so hard the boyfriend came over and was soon joining me. Poodles are vicious!
I thought the same thing, Melissa. Thought old Andy Boy crossed the Rainbow Bridge. Glad it’s a happy update.
Ohhhhh this new pouch food makes taking a dump soooooooo…wait…it’s that mail guy! Fuck! Shit Errrrrrrrrrrrrnnnnnnggggggggg fuck! He’s gone! Where was I? Oh yeah…aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. That’s some good pouch poop. Pooch pouch poop. I should start a blog like Ol’ Jiffy Pop. Jiffy Poop. Heh.
Funny stuff, I am just imagining you trying to get the dogs apart while keeping the beer steady. We have been reading since Andy was a youngin’, and have always been doubled over in laughter.
Happy Birthday, Black Lips!!!!
I guess the call of nature is stronger than mailman attraction.
Good ol’ Andy – moist food eater, pacifist, extruder of crullers. That dog has it all!
Gotta agree with Andy (Happy Birfday!), it would take one hell of a crisis to stop the launch sequence once it gets initiated. Something like that would ruin your whole day.
Good ole Andy. He is the same age as my dog so I know how you are feeling watching him get old. You should go out and get him a catshit flavored birfday cake to celebrate. Don’t be cheap.
Kick ass update! Sitting in traffic, by myself in my car, laughing like an idiot.
My male pug will piss on the same spot 20 times if I let him. My female pug, Stella, that I has put down a year and a half ago was so dramatic, even during her daily dump. She’d scrunch up her face and actually grunt. Funny as hell..
Years ago, a neighbor”s german shephard jumped it’s backyard fence and attacked her. Picked her up by the back of the neck and swung her around like a ragdoll. A neighbor used a hat rack to beat the shephard off of her . The vet bill was $240. The dog’s owner didn’t feel it necessary to pay me until my husband showed up on their doorsteo with the vet bill in one hand and a baseball bat in the other. He came home with the money.
Happy Birthday Andy… hope they gave you bully stick to celebrate with…
My family doesn’t get mad, we get even.
And since I have a pair of secrets of my own (much younger than yours) I wouldn’t tolerate a psychotic animal next door.
A small bowl of antifreeze left in a discrete corner of their yard late one night will solve the problem I suspect.
Jorge with all due disrespect. Fuck you.
Daaaaaaamm
I believe the preferred nomenclature is “go fuck yourself”.
.
I apologize. I thought that after hitting send.
Given the number of perfectly innocent cats, birds, raccoons, visiting grandchildren, and bats that are likely to suffer multiple organ failure and die in this scenario, I guess it’s just as well that nurses aren’t required to take the Hippocratic oath.
jtb
Jorge…PLEASE tell me you were kidding….JESUS H!!!!
Jorge,
Don’t waste your time with the anti-freeze. Today’s formulations won’t kill dogs. Now, rat poison in some ground beef will do the trick. It’s not quite as satisfying as snapping that filthy animal’s neck personally, but it certainly will help the neighbor appear to be more considerate. You know, less noise, less filth and less danger to people in the neighborhood.
Why is everybody so worried about suggesting that Jeff dispose of an overly aggressive dog?
He already kicked the shit out of it (rightfully so), so why not make sure you don’t have to do it again? Or I suppose you could just call animal control. Then they would put it down for you… Decisions, decisions.
The suggested methods are not only cruel, but carry an IMO unacceptably high risk of hitting the wrong victim. Seems unreasonable to me to suggest that Jeff casually poison any animal (or possibly overly curious child) in range, including possibly his own dog, just to go after one specific target.
I’d be in contact with animal control myself.
Waaay late to this party, but I must say:
a: Animal Control will do NOTHING unless someone, or something is bleeding to death. (At least where I am!!!)
b: Yes, it does sound cruel, but when a dog attacks (or makes a pretty good showing of attacking) your 68 year old father and the next door neighbor says “It’s not our dog, it just comes over here.” –when you KNOW she bought the damn dog, YOU MUST DO SOMETHING.)
c: As it turned out, the kids (who lived at the place where the dog just “came over at” killed the damn dog by letting it freeze to death in sub-zero weather. Regardless of how it would’ve died (by angry me beating it to death to get it off of my father), or slowly starving and freezing to death, which is better?
Some people shouldn’t have children OR dogs (and I have neither.)
Glad you’re OK, Jeff… we were starting to worry over here.
And happy birfday to Andy! Just to confuse matters (in my head at least), it is also the 12th birfday of the firstborn son of my buddy Andy (the human, not the dog).
I like the catshit cake idea. I have had simultaneous dogs and cats at times, and without exception the dogs just luuved those tasty treats from the cat box. Imagine a chocolate truffle coated with ground almonds.
.
“Kitty Roca”
Happy Birthday, Andy!
There is always that day when you look at your pet and they have that “old face”. You again realize that we only have our beloved pals for a short period of time.
Poodles and weiner dogs are the most vicious dogs on earth in my book. Who would have thunk it.
Happy birthday Andy.
Somehow, being mauled to death by a poodle would seem a very appropriate demise for any man who ordered “a small strawberry shortcake in a cup!” 😉
You make a good point.
That was one of the funniest things I’ve ever read!! I love your updates and glad you’re back.
Happy Birthday Andy! My big dog is in love with our mail lady–we thought he hated her it turns out he has a thing for her.
We always lash out at those we love most.
Happy birthday Andrew Black Lips Houlihan!
Well done, Sir.
Buon Compleanno, Andy!
I was thinking about getting a Portuguese Water Dog once a few years ago. Someone said “That’s just a fancy Poodle”. I am now the proud owner of a Greater Swiss Mountian Dog. I hate Poodles.
I hate poodles too, especially the ones with bloody asses.
Isn’t the FDOTUS, Bo a Portuguese Water Dog? Not to get all political but they are perfectly good American dogs looking for homes. Immigration reform now!!
Happy B-Day to the Hot Dog!
It is truly a sad state of affairs when a family oriented neighborhood lives with the knowledge, effeminate hell-hounds may attack at any moment. This unprovoked, brutal attack on an unsuspecting peaceful family companion may as well have been the work of feral swine. This aggression will not stand, man.