Dog is NOT man's best friend...

"Whoever said you can't buy happiness forgot little puppies."- Gene Hill

I am sooooo sick of reading about how people love their dogs! Yesterday I went to Barnes & Noble and was astonished to see that three of the top-ten bestsellers in the last few months have all portrayed positive accounts of living with dogs! I am here now to speak the truth—

So I was downstairs at the Ski Hut the other day chillin’ with my buddies. I was regaling the boyz about a recent, albeit common incident in which my entire family had taken part in beating up the man-dog; Loki…the following is a recounting:

We clandestinely entered the house after an evening-out dinning at a local eatery. Loki was obviously not happy when we left him home, so we fully expected that there would be some kind of retaliatory act on his part, thus the silent entrance... As stated above, post dining experience, we silently entered the house at the ready as we fully expected a fight.

As the downstairs lights came on, we noticed right way that Loki had eaten the tops off of Sophie’s expensive new sheep-skinned UGGS for straps of fleece lay haphazardly upon the floor. Further investigation revealed that he had used the UGGS as a mere appetizer for it soon became obvious that he too had seemingly ingested the whole of my wife’s new running shoe as the main course. Only a few bits of the expensive high-tech fabric remained. Then for desert he had eaten the top of off my new camelback bladder.

Repetitive training has enabled us to suppress our emotions and thus having done this before we immediately took to our battle stations and then waited for wily Loki to make the first move, for it is our belief that victory can only come when fighting a defensive battle (aka ambush). My wife, armed with a ski pole blocked the only exit to the outside world, the offspring blocked the entrance that led into the gear room—she was fortified with one of the mangled UGG boots. We immediately and collectively surmised that the UGG boots would be the perfect weapons as the dog would be hit with the very implement that he sought to destroy. We all quietly smiled at the thought as I took my crouched position near to the stairway . I whispered tensely, “Hey throw me that other boot…I’ll catch him in the back of the head as he descends the stairs.” My daughter covertly and silently tossed me the other boot.

When all was ready I made the call, “Loki treats! Loki Treats” Nothing from above—just a strained anticipatory silence. I tried again in a more amicable voice, “Come Loki Come, Treats!” Then I vigorously shook the treat bag knowing that the lure of a treat would be nearly impossible for him to resist.

Suddenly we heard him bounding across our once pristine wood floor (now it is scarred from both cat and dog claws) and then we were on him. Chaos ensued as every man, woman, and child fought the beast with every fiber of his or her humanity. Survival of the fittest in itz most stark manifestation. His agility and endurance is amazing to behold and yet we were able to hit our mark on a few of the swings. Seeing that he was out numbered he wisely retreated upstairs and it was our failing to recklessly follow him for once in the expansive living room he was able to out maneuver us and gain an advantage. Soon he was out the door and thus free to harry us at his will. As he dodged and ducked our efforts to strike him, we began exhausted and thus conceded the fight…

so it goes…a day in the life of living with Loki, the Man-dog….