August 24, 2003
I was over at my parent's house one day and my dad said, "Watch this. That dog is about to shit in my yard."
Sure enough, the 90-pound rascal made a special stop and pinched a large loaf right in the front yard. He scampered off happy after that. My dad said, "I don't have to put up with this. I've talked to those people a BUNCH OF TIMES and they just don't listen."
He went to the garage and got a shovel. He scooped up the dog-loaves from the front yard. Then, he strolled down to the neighbor's house and rang the doorbell. When they opened the door, he said, "I believe that this belongs to YOU", and pitched the shovel full of dogshit into their foyer. He turned around and walked home after that.
The dog never shit in his yard again.
My dad was one hell of a man. He didn't take shit from man nor beast.
He helped raise me. Does it show?
Nooo not one bit!! : )
Once you establish yourself as a crazy person, the neighbors leave you alone.
There's an old property a few miles away where new development is happening, that I notice now has a hand-brushed sign on the gate, ``NO VISITIRS'' and I imagine he doesn't get any. The fence keeps the dogs out, or in.
How did I get here? I was searching for information on a doctor..in London.. and somehow in the twisted mess we call the web I landed here. Funny. I am actually doing something I rarely do online lately...having a laugh and NOT working. Thanks.
Your dad rocks by the way...my kind 'o' guy...
Lisa must have been looking for a doctor that does penis surgery.
:) Actually, he was a pediatrician, maybe he does penis surgery on the side, but not that I'm aware of...
Your dad must have gone to the same school as my dad.
My dad was the personna of the "Great Santini" - enough said.
MY Dad and your Dad would got along fine.
And Yes I can see you doing the same thing. :)
I adored my Father...
Logistics query/slow mo replay request:
Did Gut Sr. put the shovel down while ringing the doorbell, then pick it up just in time for the big surprise, or did he have it balanced in hand the whole time?
Did he pitch the fecal matter way into the house or dump it at the neighbors' feet?
Did whoever answer the door holler after the dung hit, or accept it in astonished silence?
Did the loose hound keep wandering over thereafter, but without leaving souvenirs deposited on your folks' front lawn?
I'm roflmao 10 minutes after I snorked cocoler all over my keyboard!!
You are just killing me here! Lisa watch out you could/will get hooked on this blog!
ok, how come blog is the only thing I can see of what I posted?
Refresh, Jennifer. This from a frequent 2-poster.
Great story Acidman. My Dad got tired of having the neighbors dog come over and pee on Moms shrubs. Took an old extension cord, stripped off most of the insulation and wrapped it around the dogs favorite one. Then we sat by the window with the plug in his hand till "Lassie of the shrub death pee" came over. We laughed about that dog levitating till he died, 30 years later! We we're both blessed with having great Fathers.
Dads are special... Mine watched as an idoit school bus driver ran over by dog, killing it. He put me in the truck and drove to the school it was going to (there was only one).
He waited for the kids to get off, then snatched the driver off, whipped his ass and walked back to the truck, told me to go to class, and then went on work.
Nothing was ever said about it. Nothing.
In many ways it was a better time.
It is 8:06am next day and I am here reading again...I think it's already happening.
That's too funny, especially because it brings to mind one of my favorite stories about my dad and a problem with a dog...
We had a neighbor on the corner of our street who let his dog out in the morning, let him run around the neighborhood for a while, then took him back in. He'd let the dog out in the afternoon to run around some more.
This didn't bother anyone except on Fridays - that was "trash day". Every single Friday this dog would roam the neighborhood ripping through everyone's garbage.
My dad and a couple other neighbors went to visit the guy on the corner. They very politely asked him if he could keep the dog in the house on Friday mornings, until the trash was collected.
After being given the "it's my dog and I'll do whatever the hell I damn well please" routine, Dad was pissed. He was about to shoot the damn dog the next time it tore into our garbage when he came up with a better plan...
We had a big ol' steak dinner Thursday night. One good sized steak was left uneaten. Friday morning, that steak was COVERED in Metamucil.
My grandparents lived in the house across the street from the guy on the corner. They told us that they heard all kinds of yelling and screaming coming from the house across the street.
Then they saw these fancy oriental rugs being dragged out of the house and placed in the driveway and hosed off.
With a distinct brownish river flowing out of the driveway...
The dog stayed in all day on Fridays from that day forth...
I need to do that to one of my neighbors. I know who he and his dog are, but I haven't figured out which house is theirs.
Just do it.
The river of hosed-off dogshit will clue you in on which house is the culprit...