Matt Hazard

Today was an exceptionably difficult day at work.  I worked outside through rain tearing apart a deck, followed by some custom decorative work to a client’s ceiling.  Did I mention that I’m an electrician?  Ceiling work and deck building to a sparky is sort of like washing your heiny in the shower BEFORE your face – it’s just wrong.  Needless to say when I finally got home from work, I wanted nothing more than to crack a beer and pass out on the couch in my underwear.  My dog had other plans for me..

Being a dog owner takes a certain sense of vigor, or over the years you’ll be driven clinically insane.  My immediate reaction was utter rage as I stepped into last nights wet sea food packages and avocado rinds, but after bellowing profanity in a voice comparable to that of Zeus, I had to laugh when I saw how bad the dog FELT.  Oh, he was hiding, but like dealing with any 6 year old child you figure out their one and only hiding spot.

You know that moment where your dog knows they’re in the wrong?  And they actually feel bad?  That’s my favourite.  Not only because it’s amazing to see another creature portray empathy to humans, but because it’s downright hilarious to screw with them.  I’ll call out his name vigorously – nay, unremittingly and watch his ears slump back.  Then I’ll ask the question he hates most in most pretentious fatherly voice I can conjure.. “What did you do?”  This immediately triggers something in his brain that splits his motor functions down the meridian of his body, causing the left legs and right legs to walk in unison in a crablike fashion towards me.  He’ll slowly sit beside me – never making eye contact – and extend a shaking paw in what can only be described as his method of apology.  By this point, I can no longer contain myself.  I’ll fall over in complete hysterics and convulse on the floor in laughter.  And the dog finally understands he’s now in the clear.

The little mongrel has not only destroyed many objects in my house such as tv remotes, wooden baseboards, xbox controllers, window blinds and once drank my last glass of perfectly blended gin and juice.  No bullshit.

And I know this may sound ostentatious, but he’s also a habitual cock blocker.  Every time I have a woman over he jumps in between us on the couch.  Of course the girl loves him.  He’s adorable.  And when he’s all up on the girl virtually hugging them with his paws literally around their neck, he’ll slowly turn his head back and look me straight in the eyes.  That’s the definition of an asshole.

He has also ran away.  Many times.  Once, he made it all the way to the other end of town via cab.  Sadly, I wish I were joking.  This isn’t even the worse part.  Once year during a dateless Valentines Day I let him sleep in my room and he threw up in my bed.  Seriously.  Who DOES that?

However, as much as a handful these jerks can be, we still love them.  The dog is always happy to see me come home, he’s by my side for every movie I watch on the couch and can tell when I’m feeling down and need some company.  As the years go on the bonds that have formed only grown stronger.  To the benefit of both parties.  As much as he has prevented me from getting close to women in my own house, he has attracted a lot over to us on the jogging path.  And myself being a grouchy old man who hates to cuddle, he either lays at the foot of my bed or aptly leaves the room if I move around too much.  That’s respect.  In return, I pay for the pizza on pizza nights and keep him loving life with routine car rides.  Although, those car rides don’t always end up how I intend them..