September 8th 2009 3:41 pm
[ Leave A Comment | 3 people already have ]
...of unintended consequences bites him in the arse again.
Since that time before which the memory of dog runneth not to the contrary--and then some, I believe--the biped's front office windows have not opened. It's not that they were defective; it's just that they were not windows of the opening kind.
And the biped, I have only just learned, has long been dissatisfied with this derangement. One of the reasons, it seems, that he found his unopenable windows irksome, in addition to the poor ventilation, was yours truly, if you can believe such a thing.
It seems that, when I am out in the front yard, I sometimes bark, for reasons which either are not apparent to the biped, or which, being perfectly apparent, are, in his considered opinion, nevertheless inadequate. He would like to have been able to communicate his disapproval to me without leaving his office, walking across the front of the house, and opening the front door--what the lazy bastard wanted were windows that actually opened and could therefore be effectively yelled through.
All that has only just now been explained to me. I knew nothing about any of it until just minutes ago.
All I knew was that I got banished to the back yard quite early this morning, right after a couple of strangers in a white pickup truck showed up. And I stayed banished for several hours, during which time I heard much banging and sawing going on at the front of the house.
Finally, a few minutes ago, the biped released me from the back yard. Then he went back in the house to return to whatever sort of "work" it is he claims he does.
I had been wandering around inspecting my domain for some minutes before I noticed that anything was amiss. Then I suddenly realized that a part of the house that had never stuck out before was now sticking out. Having had no previous experience of casement windows, I had no idea what it was.
Well, of course, I did what any self respecting canine would have done, Littermates--what you would have done in my place--I barked at it! And barked and barked and barked. Until the biped came and gently explained to me, through the new window, that I should... ahem... shut the arf up.
I'm not sure whether that's ironic, or whether it's just what happened. But, either way, it is.
Leave A Comment | 3 people already have
I wouldn't have barked on it, I would have pee'd.
Whether one is more right than the other is not my place to judge, just giving you more options.
Well, Sam, as Izzy and Maxwell can tell you, I am a tallish sort of a dog. But, when you are on the outside of the house, the bottoms of these new windows are good five feet off the ground. So, really, my options were a little limited.
What's that? Oh.
The biped wishes me to tell you about the time he was working his way through college as a night janitor at a junior high school. One evening, he went into one of the boys' restrooms to clean it up--always a fun job, he says.
Someone had used a pencil to draw a horizontal line on one of the walls, about six feet above the floor. The rake with the pencil had then written next to the line, "If you can hit this, you should be a fireman."
The biped does not know, he says, if any of these sporting lads went on to careers in the fire service, but some of them did strive quite manfully to hit the mark.
I find it quite unbelievable that the Biped could not yell loud enough through non-opening windows, if the case was warranted. Otherwise, how did he hear YOU barking?