Rooster tripawed

Well I don,t even know how to start this dogblog beings so much has transpired since i last took control of the pet and ever so humbly mused the blues for the folks that really peruse these twisted and quite pararaghless oft times winded rantings about this rather quiet and simple life i lead in the canine race to what i hope will if not surpass then at least equal this grand game of existence that I have been so blessedly granted with. But i recon i should start at the end and work my way back to the beginning and therefore leave the twist to ripen as it may and sink its teeth when the setting is much more aromatic in the sense that moldering stew sets ones thinking not along the lines of what a fine and pleasant meal its earlier known existence presented but more along the lines of what a nasty dirty job does now bestow oneself in cleaning up of that whole foul  and retched mess. So i ended up sitting or quite really standing in between half squatting face to face and sometimes rear to face and verse visa in the dark with lights flashing all about and whistles and swoops and whines on Eddie’s side yard with a fowl smelling territorial marking male member of that nasty whiny fur-ball spewing sharp claw welding family feline, and to think it all just started out as an innocent hop-walk to the mail box and back with my usual sniffs and half squats of said territorial markings along with my “oh I’m so tired and cant make it anymore can we just go see Bonnie” feigns and ended up an exciting and quite eventful evening for the whole neighborhood though my pet looked quite worried there for a while until he finally figured out what fun was to be had there in the dark on the side yard. Okay I guess I’m getting over your heads out there so I’ll set down in easy humanly understanding words the fact that while on our way back i really truly (wink ,wink) exhausted myself beyond the boundaries of what my simple canine body could handle and lay down at the side of the road (not even thinking that at any minute our crazy no holba neighbor lady from down at the end of the street could come careening around the corner on two wheels and squish my head as flat as the rabbit who lay out here this last past summer for a few days stinking up a storm and breeding nasty fly larva until my pet moved it to the shade of Eddie’s tree to decompose into fertilizer if the coyotes didn’t get it first) and panted. My pet prodded me and tried his whole “there it is lets get he rabbit” trick and even a few “there’s that cat ” taunts to no avail,so off he headed without me, leaving me to lay panting in the dark while he rolled his butt home and fetched the quad to come and fetch me the faithful fetcher from my exhausting dilemma . Well low and behold when he got back i was gone and he thought “where could he have gone? , it took less then two minutes to roll down and get on the ATV and ride back to he rescue” ,so off he rides swinging his quad here and there trying to light up the shadows and see just where it was i was hiding ,up and down the road over to Bonnie’s pets home and next thing ya know they are all out on quads and cars calling and flashing lights and riding about like there was some real danger about to befall us all and to tell you the truth they even had me quite worried there for a while which is hard since a dog don’t really worry. But low and behold amidst the thoughts of me all strangled up caught on god knows whatever or drug off by a very large and monstrous pack of coyotes my pet swung his lights towards Eddies house and there i stood fully lite up head to head with a no hobla  territorial marker of the feline species( once he left to get the quad what should befall a fine and exhausted canine such as I but the chance by a chance that right across the street in front of Mrs, Edwards house strolled a cat, and exhausted or not up i rose and bolted across the street and chased that mangy feline to the side yard of Eddies house) . So now all the fun was over and i was rounded up and made to crawl up onto the quad and after all the human thanks and goodbyes was whisked home to a full bowl of plop. But like you all should recon that’s not what i came to really tell you about ,what i came to ell you about is the ride on the big green machine me and the pet took the other day .See once and again he fires up that big green Russian machine and takes off with a roar and every once and again he suits me up in my riding harness and up i get into sidecar and away we fly.Well this trip we headed up Quatel canyon road and took a quick and really uneventful but most beautiful jaunt a little ways up Blue rock canyon and around by the quail guzzler (another time ) and on back out to the main road.Well the pet had been wanting to check out another road opposite of the mine road and so after passing it up we flipped a quick bitch (as you humans say) and headed up this as yet unknown road ,and it was a pretty good ride with a few dry river crossings and a few nice whoop-de-doos and even the beautiful site of a covey of quails crossing the road in front of us assuring the pet that another round of breeding would bestow yet another game filled summer bonanza, and off in heaven we both where until we spotted a very small pet human child standing in the road in front of us ,so we slowed down and stopped and for a second or two just stared at what seemed to be a young boy straight out of some Charles Dickens novel or maybe a lone transplanted character from` Lord of the fly’s’ , my pet later said he thought the little street urchin looking ragtag bundle of rags was gonna present a bowl and ask”may i please have more porridge sir?” but instead he said in a very un-English and very much southern California accented froggy type voice “You F&%$#rs got any duct tape?”,well that just about blew my pets mind and thinking back through all the times of his life never had he been bestowed with such an eloquent and Hollywood type of introduction. So the pet says “yeah i always carry the stuff ,along with plenty of SLIME and a whole array of tools,why whats up?” to with which the little froggy voiced urchin replied” F&%$ing heaters broke” to with which my pet actually burst into laughter at which the heavens seemed to open up and out of the surrounding chaparral appeared more then a dozen of these same filthy clothed dirty faced foul mouthed characters  as if from some vast and far off dream they all proceeded to jump and shout and rant and rave how this BLEEPING world had never understood them and how the BLEEPING people should take more care in crossing heir paths and how a person could get his BLEEPING tongue cut out laughing at what appeared to be some Dickens ,Golden type Children of the corn rampaging rascals on the warpath. So out shouts my pet “Let me see this F%$#ing heater cause i can fix anything” to with which they all surrounded my pet and actually lifted him up off the green machine and carried him away into the woods down a little scant trail strewn about with remnants of old cars and kitchen appliances and discarded junk in various degrees of decomposition and rounding the bend came upon a rather crudely put together abode that would in anyone’s opinion fit right into the midst of tales of these aforementioned and forgone literaturest of old or Takilma Oregon which ever you prefer, not so much built but rather sculpted out of wood and tin and pieces of said discarded appliances ,bolstered up with nails and screws of every shape and form ,bailing wire ,hog wire and bless Red Greens heart ,duct tape. The windows were made out of the doors from washing machines and the front glass and frames of old discarded television sets and the front door appeared to be the back fold-down door and electric sliding window( in the up position ) from a early 70s Ford Country Squire wagon ,with the simulated wood-grain siding still intact.So the pet was led (all of this was later relayed to me ,beings i was strapped into the sidecar and couldn’t release myself to follow)  in through this den of raggedness and winced at the scraping sound the giant metal hoops used for hinges made as the door was opened and after entering then again closed. The inside of the place was not as bad as the outside seemed, maybe just for the fact that the discarded junk inside was all seemingly assembled into the neatest and quaintest bit of effects. Tables and beds , chairs and windowsills, were all crafted with what appeared to him the utmost of care from trash into beauty. Soon the pet was taken to “The F%$#ing heater” which appeared to be none other then a( 50s model Frigidaire, freezer on the bottom refrigerator) propped up on bricks with the whole back fin assembly bolstered with what appeared to be 2 inch cast iron pipe running a crude but eccentric  spiral that with all the bailing wire and duct tape and various bits of coat hanger and electrical wire resembled a web constructed by a spider with a obvious drug problem, From the lowest end of said pipe was duct taped on one and hose clamped on the other of which seemed to him to be an inlet and outlet for this whole very dangerous looking mess a pair of 2 inch rubber hoses that then abruptly disappeared into the ground. My pet sat bewildered and shook his head as he gazed about the room ,and there tucked away in the corner sat a stout tho rusting but still quite functional Hamilton Wood Stove (Hamilton county Ohio) with stove pipe intact and attached ,but before he could open his mouth to say LICK-IT-E-SPLIT the rag tag group rolled him out across the floor and out what appeared to be the back door (which consisted of the door to the before said refrigerator pivoting from the top pendulum style and held by a very large lag bolt) and across a very clean and almost marble smooth dirt floor patio (having been swept so many times the clay dirt now actually shined and reflected as he rolled across it) to none other then a 1972 Cadillac El Dorado which missing its front left wheel and hub assembly was sitting atop an over turned run of the mill “Art Deco” kitchen table, affixed to the front left side of the bumper and frame just behind the fender well,  and out of from under the wheel well protruded those same 2 inch rubber hoses (one of which had a large nasty gash) which like before abruptly disappeared into the ground.The little froggy voiced urchin began his spiel about how” the motor heats the water and the water runs through the water pump and into the hoses then travels down into he ground and reappears in the living room and is connected to the heater core behind the F&%$ing heater” , so my pet lost it and yelled “its not a F%$#ing heater its a F%$#ing refrigerator” and continued with “The heater is in the corner cold as ice” to which the urchin replied “But all we need is your duct tape to fix the hose”, to which the pet replied “But this is all crazy ,why use a Caddy-Fridgidar monstrosity of a contraption for heating when you could just use that fine Hamilton Wood Stove sitting in the corner?” to which was replied “It don’t work ,we tried all the nobs on it and nothing ever happens” to which the pet said ” You gotta stick wood in it and light a fire” to which was replied “OH”. Having about had it by now the pet headed across the patio and for the door to rid himself of this whole preposterous mess and the urchins grabbed him and they hauled him back and yelled “Fix the F&%$ing heater ” and he yelled “No go chop down some wood and use the wood stove like its supposed to be used” and they yelled back “No you arnt going anywhere until you fix the F%$#ing heater” .So thinking quick the pet glanced the chance and spying a scant trail off towards the direction of the Green machine he bolted ,over the sage brush and through the stickers yelling that rebel yell he rolled and popped out on the road just a mere ten feet from  me and the Green machine, out of the chair he jumped and slinging the chair right on top of me he wasted no time in starting up them twin opposeds and cramming that baby into gear the whole time being hoarded and grabbed and prodded at by this whole group of nasty little bassackward beings from a storybook dream . We started off slowly having a bit of trouble maneuvering over a few legs and full bodies of these Maricopa Munchkins and thinking we had finally gotten away i sighed in relief only to feel my one good leg a grasp and being pulled by one of these Children of the corn ,Chucky, Pet cemetery nightmares ,and as well as i could i pulled in return while chomping down on its foul and dirty smelling hand and the more i chewed and pulled the more it pulled ,and then i noticed my pet looking down at me while shifting gears ,watching me helpless as my leg was being pulled just like I’m pulling yours………..Remember ,keep chewing on that shoe………

This entry was posted on Friday, February 10th, 2012 at 5:31 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.