mainly dogs in this discussion but it pertains to behavioral similarities in human society. I almost titled this ‘animal sex’ and decided against it…it’s about the dogs next door…and a stray that keeps coming in off of the street.
One of the dogs next door, as mentioned before on Tango, is a Chihuahua and not knowing her name, if I could peg her in a class of people and her behavior, I would name her Queenie. Hence, I dub thee Queenie. The other dog is one of the Molosser family – pitbull – and he’s quite big. My ‘good’ neighbor has told me the big dog’s name is Monster, because the dog escaped his confines more than once (before the owners fenced up the back escape hatch on their property) and managed to land in her yard. The owner of the dog came looking for him and told the Good Neighbor (Amy) that the dog’s name is Monster…
The introduction to the dogs began 1st with Bad Neighbor telling me, on the day he was getting ready to move in, that they had one dog, ‘he’s fairly small though and won’t be a problem.’ Bull-loney-maroney! He barked his brains out and growled most of the night for the first month they were here, and the second month and on and on and on. He was far from being small.
They kept him tied to a doghouse out in the middle section of the property, with a creepy looking doghouse as his escape from the wind and rain. There were days that I don’t believe he was even fed, although I could be mistaken because I don’t stare out my window on that side and mainly keep my blinds pulled so I don’t have to notice anything they do…that’s sad for me because that’s the incredible sunset side of my place and I’d like to have that view in the early evening.
At one point when it had been raining for 3 days and I didn’t see any tracks in the mud leading out to the dog or his fine dog castle, I walked over to the house – Riot was with me at the time – knocked on the door, and got a ‘who is it?’ demand to which I replied, “Linda, your next door neighbor.”
The door was opened about 8 inches by the same guy that told me they were going to have one dog. Queenie came bounding out, snorting and barking, into the mud and ran around their front yard while Riot laughed and tried to chase her down. I explained to the guy that if they wanted to put Monster’s dog house over by my fence line that Riot and I would have table scraps we would be happy to share with him. Guy informed me that he would talk to the owner of Monster and if he wanted to do that, he would knock on my door and let me know.
‘Nuff said. No one ever knocked on my door so…I even bought a bag of dog food and made up my mind that by the next day, if the dog appeared to be unfed (they had a big 5 gallon utility bucket that the wind had blown over about 30 feet from his castle and that was my guide), I would jump the fence, trudge through the mud, and feed the damned dog. The rain stopped and the fine china was back in front of the doghouse.
We share a wire fence between the properties that Monster can stick his head through the wire but nothing more…and Queenie can leap through it like it wasn’t there.
Queenie spends more time in my yard on some days than she does on their property. She acts like she owns the place and thinks nothing of marching around all pompous and arrogant at the very idea I would be in the yard…snorting and barking her little bitch brains out.
The block wall fence has helped – being 90 feet long – most of the time Queenie and Monster can’t see me when I do go out to do yard work or just visit my own yard area. But Queenie still comes over to explore and comes around the end of the wall to enter the yard whenever she feels like it. For the most part, her arrogance and attitude has me laughing out loud. She’s so tiny that it’s almost unreal that she would be so almighty and demanding.
About 10 days go Queenie went into heat. I suppose I could have grabbed my video camera and filmed a few of scenes of Monster trying to get it on with Queenie but I didn’t. The owners started tying Monster back to his doghouse during this time period. Monster repeatedly tried to break free from his rope and whined and cried until he almost had no voice. Of course Queenie spent most of her time hanging out with him since the demands of nature were knocking on her door. I didn’t know whether I should be laughing or crying as I hauled #2 gravel in the wheel barrow one evening and saw Monster pull her over underneath him. She was willing, and Monster humped the air over her back because he was nowhere near close to making contact with her.
It was funny watching her when she laid down and he sniffed and licked her and she preened with her belly up, like a prima donna in demand at one of high rent strip clubs. She jumped up and shook herself off like something really big had happened, then she ran around the yard while Monster whined for her to come back, and she did.
My view (the side I open the blinds) from the coach is the backyard of Vickie’s house…this is where I have my work area set up and it’s quite calm and peaceful. I can see down the driveway to the road when I’m at the PC and two days ago, I happened to spot another dog, the same type as Monster, laying beside Vickie’s house in the shade. Umnhhh! I’d seen this dog on the street a few times before, as he sniffed his way down the avenue, while I was out watering pampas grass and vines. Now he was laying in the shade, panting his brains out, and seriously looked like he was in need of water. I even set out a bowl of water not far from the coach. Of course I didn’t want to approach him since I had no idea if he would bite or was sick (as Riot would say, “He’s got poke teeth, Grandmom”) and the dog never moved other than to keep panting and looking around.
Then he started howling. WTF? It’ was 2 p.m. and there’s a strange dog, looking like he’s going to croak, howling in my yard.
He got up from time to time and disappeared from site and kept coming back. I had nothing to do but work so I didn’t go out to see what the hell was going on with him. A few hours later as I did my dishes, I could see him under some of the salt cedar bushes/trees by the back of the property, laying in the shade.
Then it was time to go out and water the vines and pampas grass.
As I came around the end of the coach with hose, Queenie was preening her little ass off to The Howler. He was keenly interested and grabbed her with a paw, pulling her underneath him for the big mount up. *joke* She stood for it for about 30 seconds and then jumped away. But she kept her butt to him so he could sniff it…when he started to lick, she spun around and faced off at him like he had committed a crime. This part of it had me seriously laughing my ass off. It reminded me of the casinos and the chicks that wear their Victoria Secrets or close to nothing wisps of clothing out to troll. But when the guy tries to touch what they are showing and parading, they have a fit and act all outraged because the guy even thought about it. Gee!
Yah, this opens another can of worms for me because I think people should be allowed clothing choices without being mauled for those choices but there’s a fine line there somewhere…as in what image are you trying to project?
I put the scram on both of them, yelling, ‘GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!’
Queenie darted back through the fence and The Howler headed for the street. He laid across the road (empty lot) under salt cedar bushes for who knows how long. A few hours later when I went back out, Queenie and The Howler were on the other side of Vickie’s car and the Steed. I put the yell on them again and they left.
The following day, The Howler was back, acting like he owned my yard. Perhaps he learned some tricks from Queenie or figured it was really her yard and she told him he could hang out. Repeat the Scram Technique…yell…he leaves.
Today, as I started my work, The Howler was howling again, laying in the same shady spot that I first saw him in. Kee-rist! I ran him off again.
The downside – and it does bother me a bit – is what if Queenie did manage to become impregnated by Monster? Sick thought because of the size difference. Sick that the owners figured tying Monster would solve the problem.
Another issue is I may be forced to call animal control since I don’t need The Howler hanging around, I don’t need a dog, don’t want a dog, and really don’t want to be forced to deal with him each time I leave the coach.
Let’s go to human nature for a minute.
In 2007, Craig Cunningham was covering the WSOP for PokerWorks (what a damn fine job he did too) and he was also running a little fun thing on ‘whose butt is this’ with pictures he grabbed as he went through the tables and hallways. As he and I were talking in the hallway, I took a couple of pictures and asked him (jokingly) if he wanted to use them for his butt contest. Every time I have sifted through my WSOP picture files, I run across these and they have a close association with Queenie and her actions (no, I didn’t walk up to get the close-up…zoom, baby):
There is a lot of humor in most of this, since human/animal nature is part of our existence and being; there is no humor in some of it. I have an issue with people that don’t care about accepting responsibility for what they create and don’t respect themselves…which brings the point that if you don’t respect you, how can you respect anyone else or figure out that you have a responsibility. This isn’t a lesson on morals, just a few moments out of my day and thoughts that run wildly through my head.
Queenie? She’s got my vote for bitch of the year. It’s funny as hell to watch her strut – in or out of heat – the girl knows know shame or fear.
The world is full of sex – with or without responsibility, all you have to do is tune in to the game. One question that may be running through your head, does animal sex turn me on? One thing you should know about Grannies, lots of things are private, not censored, just private.