OBIO
August 21st, 2010, 20:39
This story starts with a dog named Brutus. Now, when one generally imagines what a dog named Brutus would look like, most people would picture a 100 pound Boxer, wearing a black leather collar with 3 inch steel spikes, with glistening white fangs about a mile long and long ribbons of thickened drool hanging from its snarling lips. Well, they would be wrong. The dog named Brutus in this story is a 12 pound, 3/4 Chihuahua and 1/4 Jack Russell Terrier mix who loves riding in the car, who is super lovey toward people and is just about the sweetest dog you could imagine. The only thing remotely Brutus-ish about this dog is his bark...this dog has the bark box of a 100 pound Boxer...I am amazed that such a loud and powerful bark can come from a dog so small.
Also in this story is a fly named John Denver. It is a common house fly..not an exotic horse fly or deer fly or green bottle fly..just an ordinary house fly. But like the amazing singer after which it was named, this fly is smaller than average, makes a good bit of noise and isn't all that great at flying.
The story began yesterday afternoon as I was sprawled across the super comfy "chair and a half" watching a movie on Netflix. Brutus was laying across my soft warm belly, happily snoozing and dreaming about chasing rabbits or whatever it is that dogs dream about that make them growl and run in their sleep. Out of the clear blue livingroom sky, as if it had materialized from another deminision, a fly appeared. A small fly, with really noisy wings and a very erratic flight behavior.
The fly, in what could best be described as a controlled crash, landed right smack dab in the middle of Brutus's right side, right on the very rib bump that he got stung on last summer....a spot that Brutus will take a serious look at at least ten times a day to make sure that the Yellow Jacket that stung him has not suddenly reappeared. Now, being as how John Denver landed on Ground Zero of Brutus's obsessive compulsive behavior...Brutus came wide awake in an instant and in a full blown panic attack. Off my belly Brutus jumped, onto the floor and spent a good three minutes examining his right side rib cage. And he smelled his hindend a few times for good measure. And took a look at his dangly part; he is also obsessed with that area of his anatomy..and has been ever since he got CLIPPED at 6 months of age.
After making sure that the vicious Yellow Jacket from the horrible stinging incident last summer was not back to finish him off, that his hindend smelled just like it did before he fell asleep and that no one had removed his last dangly part...Brutus hopped back up onto my stomach and laid back down. But not for long. Because John Denver began circling the chair...his undersized wings making a fairly audible whirring sound as he banked into a ever tightening circle about us. Brutus turned and spun, spun and turned, keeping his eyes and ears on this new arch-villian.
As John Denver got closer and closer, Brutus eyes and nostril opened wider and wider, his ears stood up a bit more. His Fight or Flight survival instincts were being aroused. Unfortuantely, Fight got its arse handed to it by Flight...Brutus jumped off my belly again and moved a good 3 or 4 feet away from John Denver. No matter how many times I called him, which was really hard to do as I was laughing my head off, or how many times I patted my belly...Brutus would not come back to the chair. Yes, dear readers, Brutus is afraid of a fly!
Now, a faithful and humane pet owner would seek to reduce the fear and panic his dog is experiencing and would grab the fly swatter, dispose of John Denver and allow Brutus to resume his normal belly surfing routine. Well, dear readers, I am not that kind of pet owner. I have been laughing my headoff for the last 2 days watching Brutus run from this little noisy fly. And I hate flies in my house....will kill them without prejudice...but not John Denver. I am keeping him around for comic relief.
This little scenario has happened several times in the last two days. Brutus will be chilling out, John Denver appears out of nowhere and Brutus goes all spastic trying to avoid the fly...though today he did muster up the courage to make several failed attempts to grab John Denver out of the air and dispose of him.
Well, I am going back into the livingroom, call Brutus to me, and wait for John Denver to show up. The best entertainment in town!
OBIO
Also in this story is a fly named John Denver. It is a common house fly..not an exotic horse fly or deer fly or green bottle fly..just an ordinary house fly. But like the amazing singer after which it was named, this fly is smaller than average, makes a good bit of noise and isn't all that great at flying.
The story began yesterday afternoon as I was sprawled across the super comfy "chair and a half" watching a movie on Netflix. Brutus was laying across my soft warm belly, happily snoozing and dreaming about chasing rabbits or whatever it is that dogs dream about that make them growl and run in their sleep. Out of the clear blue livingroom sky, as if it had materialized from another deminision, a fly appeared. A small fly, with really noisy wings and a very erratic flight behavior.
The fly, in what could best be described as a controlled crash, landed right smack dab in the middle of Brutus's right side, right on the very rib bump that he got stung on last summer....a spot that Brutus will take a serious look at at least ten times a day to make sure that the Yellow Jacket that stung him has not suddenly reappeared. Now, being as how John Denver landed on Ground Zero of Brutus's obsessive compulsive behavior...Brutus came wide awake in an instant and in a full blown panic attack. Off my belly Brutus jumped, onto the floor and spent a good three minutes examining his right side rib cage. And he smelled his hindend a few times for good measure. And took a look at his dangly part; he is also obsessed with that area of his anatomy..and has been ever since he got CLIPPED at 6 months of age.
After making sure that the vicious Yellow Jacket from the horrible stinging incident last summer was not back to finish him off, that his hindend smelled just like it did before he fell asleep and that no one had removed his last dangly part...Brutus hopped back up onto my stomach and laid back down. But not for long. Because John Denver began circling the chair...his undersized wings making a fairly audible whirring sound as he banked into a ever tightening circle about us. Brutus turned and spun, spun and turned, keeping his eyes and ears on this new arch-villian.
As John Denver got closer and closer, Brutus eyes and nostril opened wider and wider, his ears stood up a bit more. His Fight or Flight survival instincts were being aroused. Unfortuantely, Fight got its arse handed to it by Flight...Brutus jumped off my belly again and moved a good 3 or 4 feet away from John Denver. No matter how many times I called him, which was really hard to do as I was laughing my head off, or how many times I patted my belly...Brutus would not come back to the chair. Yes, dear readers, Brutus is afraid of a fly!
Now, a faithful and humane pet owner would seek to reduce the fear and panic his dog is experiencing and would grab the fly swatter, dispose of John Denver and allow Brutus to resume his normal belly surfing routine. Well, dear readers, I am not that kind of pet owner. I have been laughing my headoff for the last 2 days watching Brutus run from this little noisy fly. And I hate flies in my house....will kill them without prejudice...but not John Denver. I am keeping him around for comic relief.
This little scenario has happened several times in the last two days. Brutus will be chilling out, John Denver appears out of nowhere and Brutus goes all spastic trying to avoid the fly...though today he did muster up the courage to make several failed attempts to grab John Denver out of the air and dispose of him.
Well, I am going back into the livingroom, call Brutus to me, and wait for John Denver to show up. The best entertainment in town!
OBIO