Wednesday, January 18, 2017
I AM GOING TO KILL YOUR DOG
by Mr. Mean-Spirited
I hate dogs. I’ve never seen a canine that I didn’t want to kick. I’ve never seen a puppy I didn’t want to punt. Smelly, slobbery, squishy critters.
Damn noisy creatures too. Always barking and bothering about my hob-nailed footwear. Always yipping and yapping at my steel-toed boots. Always snarling and snapping at my hickory cane.
I have never understood why people might waste affection upon such disgusting beasts.
Conformists will put up with many things – including a hatred of the human species. But the one thing that do-gooders cannot abide is hatred of their house-pets. You can refuse to kiss their baby and they will accept your squeamishness, but if you should refuse to pat their puppy, then you will be truly ostracized.
The worst thing about a pet is always its owner. Everyone thinks their dog is so cute; I got news for you: that hound isn’t. What is it about a dog-lover that makes him think some random strangers want a drooling cur to run-up and lick them?
The more sociable the person, the more likely they are clutching a dog leash and clasping a plastic bag full of dog shit. It is like the feces are some theatrical prop that allows them to interact with other turd-carrying neighbors.
When I observe some idiot leaving a pampered doggie in a hot car, I knock on the window – hoping the dumb animal will prance about and, ultimately, die of heat-stroke. (Naturally, I wish it would be the human that might expire, but I’ll settle for the varmint.) When I see a dog shitting on the sidewalk, I unintentionally – accidentally, mind you – drop my candy bar, hoping the damn thing will gobble up all that king-size chocolate. I have these police-grade devices that emit this high-pitch ultrasonic wail; I sometimes a take a couple dog-deterrents out to the park to see if they are still working (ain’t my fault if some canine should suffer; sign says “no dogs” at the entrance). Had a neighborhood dog snorting around my flower bed; one night a bunch of fiberglass shavings and powdered cayenne pepper got spread around the garden (must have been those mischievous gnomes that did such a thing) – didn’t get any more sniffing after that.
Your dog comes on my property and I feel a threat. And when I feel threatened, I protect myself. And by protecting myself, I kill your doggie. Paws up, pal.