Break a Leg

So, 2 weeks ago, I was talking about how my roommate had gone on vacation to Taiwan for about a month and left behind a puppy.  In the two weeks since that post the dog has managed to crap all over the floor, eat a good portion of my roommate's shoes, destroy sections of carpet, pile a good deal of my roommate's bedding and personal effects in the middle of the room, and generally annoy the hell out of me.

I fed the dog, I played with the dog, I took the dog for walks, I event let the little bugger sleep with me at night.  I bought a litter box and put it in the spot that the dog habitually pooped in the naive hope that the dog might get the idea.  I showed it where the poop went.  I put it in the box and pet it, trying to instill the sense that the box was a good thing, a great thing, a thing which would help to avoid so many future beatings.

And every day, I would wake up, put the dog in the room, take a shower, come out of the shower, open the door to the dog's room...and smear shit all across the rug because the dog liked to poop right in front of the door. 

And perhaps you're thinking "Well, it's been a long night.  Maybe you should have taken the dog out for a walk before you got int the shower." To which I respond: I could take the dog out for a walk, letting it take its sweet-ass time, sniffing everything that needed to be sniffed, it would even pee several times on the trip.  The minute I put it back in it's room it would shit on the floor.

Aside from the poop-factor, the dog whined, squeaked, and barked whenever it was stuck in the room.  If I let it out of the room it would tear around the house, find something it wasn't supposed to eat, eat it, and then shit on the carpet again, only this time the poop would have the consistency and color of melted chocolate ice cream. 

My family has rented a beach house this year for Christmas.  My sister is down from Portland, my brother and his family are over from Hawaii.  I haven't seen my niece and on of my nephews in 3 years, the other nephew I've never met before.  There are no pets allowed at the house.  I was not going to miss the opportunity to do so because of this damn dog.  I spent Saturday night out there and felt this anxiety the entire time about the dog, which isn't even mine.  I certainly couldn't leave it alone for 3 days while I was out try to have fun with my family, because I wouldn't be having fun.  I would just be sitting there worrying about what the dog would destroy next or which one of my neighbors would complain about it and get me kicked out of my apartment.

The dog had to go.

I thought about a boarding the dog, but balked at the idea of paying $35 a day plus vaccination fees for a dog that wasn't even mine.  I thought of just leaving the front door open and letting the dog play in traffic.  "Whoops" I'd say.  This actually happened accidentally.  I was carrying something inside the house and my hands were full and the dog bolted right by me, down the stairs and out into the street where it was almost run down by a passing car.

Finally, I called the Humane Society and told them the situation.  The girl on the other line at first gave me a guilt trip about having accepted the responsibility and now having to deal with it.  I really couldn't disagree with her, but I really couldn't have the dog in my house any more.  She eventually told me that if they could get permission from my roommate for me to release the dog to them they would take it. 

So, today, I took the dog to the Humane Society.  I think she knew something was wrong because on the ride there, there were little doggy tears running down her nose.  If I wasn't such a cold hearted bastard, I might not have laughed in her face.  I brought her into the front foyer, explained the situation, handed the dog over, signed a piece of paper, and walked away - the anxiety that had been plaguing me since the dog first arrived starting to disapate like fog in the sunlight.

This whole situation seemed to be what it would be like if you suddenly found out you had a kid, without having had the fun of making the little bastard in the first place.

Happy Jenday and Merry Christmas!

P.S.  I'm posting this a day early because tomorrow I will be out at the beach house enjoying a snifter of mead and not worrying about any dogs.