<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d3440559\x26blogName\x3dWonder+Boy\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLACK\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttp://wonderboyblog.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://wonderboyblog.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d-9208151565435014371', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

Life is only what you wonder.

Thursday, November 03, 2005

Parental Guidance Suggested

Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale.
(Well, providing someone is reading this aloud to you. Otherwise you'll read a tale, not hear one. But we don't have to get too literal about this, do we?)

I was down in the basement in the "laundry room" folding towels the other day.
Rico is playing happily in the back yard, doing what doggies do: sniffing around, munching on his rawhide bone, playing with his squeaky toy, taking care of "business".
As I'm wondering vaguely why two people have so many fuggin' towels in the first place, I hear Rico barking his head off outside.
The basement window is open to air out the smell of All-Tempa Cheer and bleach, so I yell out, "Shut up, Rico!" like I nornally do.

Normally, Rico hears my voice and stops barking and then sticks his nose through the basement window. Then I pat his little head and he starts wagging his tail and I say something like "Be a good boy, Rico" and then he happily goes about his business.
Not this time.
He's barking and barking and I'm thinking, "What in the world has gotten into this dog?"
So I drop the towel I'm folding and go to investigate.

As I'm walking up the stairs, I'm thinking it's that stray cat that's setting Rico off. Sometimes I catch him sitting on the fence just out of Rico's reach, going "Nyah! Nyah! You can't get me!" and laughing. (Well, that's what the cat would be saying if it could speak -- or laugh.) The cat does it on purpose, I'm sure of it.

Anyway, as I get upstairs and out the back door, I see it isn't the cat that's stting Rico off at all. Some neighborhood kids (two boys and a girl, the oldest couldn't have been more than seven) were throwing Rocks at him and Rico was going nuts.
And who could blame him? Throw rocks at me and I'll go nuts, too.

I admit it, I lost my temper.

"Stop throwing rocks at my dog!" I yelled at them, "Or I'll let him loose and he'll rip you faces off!"
Upon hearing that, the kids ran shrieking down the block and around the corner.

OK, in retrospect I realize that was not the right way to handle it. I will freely admit that.
But I was angry.

That doesn't excuse what I did, it only provides a reason for it.

Anyhoo, a few minutes later I'm back downstairs folding towels again and Rico is right by my side chewing on one of my old holey socks, when I hear a BANG! BANG! BANG! (on the door, baby!)

So I go up to answer it and when I open the door there was this indiginant looking woman standing there with a little boy and girl kind of cowering behind her. Of course I recognize them as being two of the three kids I had cought throwing stones at Rico just moments earlier.

Before I could even get a greeting out, she says to me,
"Did you tell my kids you were going to get your dog to attack them?"
And shes all up in my Kool-Aid, nahmean?
"Oh," I replied, "They told you that part of it, but did they tell you they were throwing rocks at him? My dog was playing happily in the yard, not hurting anyone and your kids come over and for no reason start throwing things at him.
Techically, I should be the one knocking on your door right now for what your children were doing to him."

To her credit, the woman's entire demeamor changed.
She turns to the kids and says, "is that true? Were you throwing rocks at this man's dog?"
The kids say nothing and just stare down at the ground. Their guilt was obvious.

"I'm sorry," She says to me, "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again." and she marches the kids down the block.

My first instinct is to insert something like: "Don't kids have nothing better to do nowadays?" or "Why can't parents nowadays control their children? That's why this world is going to hell in a handbasket!" but that would make me sound like a grumpy old man, which I by far am not!