Sept. 05, 2001 ~ Not the happiest of campers
Last night I was merrily reading boards and journals, just totally oblivious to the world's real problems, when we (the housecats and I) heard a noise. A loudish noise which got our attention, quick-fast. As always happens in these situations, I got up to investigate. Act first, think later; that's my motto. I cannot begin to tell you how many times this has caused problems in my life, and yet when push comes to shove, when there is a loud noise, I will always get up and go check it out. Without making a phone call, without picking up a gun or even a flashlight, without waking anyone else up.
The cats were scared, but that doesn't mean much, because, well... they're cats. A species not known for their bravery. I walked slowly into the living room and realized that maybe this was not such a good idea. And wouldn't it be odd if this was the last thought I had? I kept hearing noises, as if perhaps someone was really nearby. My heart began to pound. The sounds were coming from the back porch. Now... what would YOU do at this point? When that "fight or flight" response kicks in, I seem to be genetically programmed to "fight," so I walked to the porch and turned on the light. Such a BRILLIANT thing to do!
Okay, okay... there's nothing to worry about, we're fine. There was no burglar, no lunatic, no escaped convict. But what I saw... filled me with rage. A black dog on my back porch. A black dog. It quickly ran when it saw me, so I couldn't say for certain that it was one of the cat-killing dogs, but, oh... you have no idea how furious I was at that moment. The adrenaline rush. It's not just about the dog, you see. Earlier that evening I had seen one of the dog's people at my neighbor's house. Had considered going over there to talk to them about the unpaid vet bill, and had decided against it. Because all that just makes me feel ill. The whole situation. The lack of concern, the fact that they abandoned the dogs in the first place, the whole thing. Don't get me started. Oops... I got me started my OWN self!
There is no proof. I couldn't swear that it's one of those dogs, because I didn't get a good enough look at it. And just because I saw the dog's person, and then a few hours later, saw what looked like the same dog, on my back porch, doesn't make it so. Could just be a coincidence.
Want to hear something really stupid? (I can hear you all shouting out, "Yes, Carol! Yes! Tell us something really stupid! We can't wait!") When the cat-killing dogs were sweet little things, just puppies, they used to chase cars. Specifically, they used to chase my truck. And good citizen that I am, if no one was behind me, I would stop the truck, get out, and "lecture" the dogs. Fuss at them. Convince them of the evil of their car-chasing ways. We were all afraid that they were going to get run over and killed. All the neighbors worried about them. After awhile, I do believe I actually broke the puppies of that habit. They stopped chasing cars. And you know what they say... no good deed goes unpunished.
But surely, surely, those people would not have brought those dogs back here and dumped them again.
There are lots of black dogs in the world, right?
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