LIlly

The Fool would like to take a time out today from his insane (depending on how you view them) musings. I had occasion to come down from the hill to tend to some personal business.

One of the Fools relatives dog had puppies. No big thing right? Dogs have puppies. That's what they do right? So why is the Fool even bothering to write about this? I do not know myself. Except for the fact that said dog is seven years old and has never had a litter.

But let me start at the beginning. The dog, I'll call her Lilly belongs to a relative of the Fools who had just aquired another dog. A male, two years old. Yep, you guessed what happened. Anyway, I had been noticing how this dog was always sniffing around Lilly. OK. That's what male dogs do. I get it. And you would like to know what this has this to do with anything?

Well to make a long story short, I happened to walk in just when the male dog was trying to uncouple from Lilly, (he said, trying to put it delicatly). My first response was surprise, that is.... until Lilly looked up at me. Lilly is a tiny blond little fur ball with huge brown eyes. She is very reserved, built low to the ground and waddles when she walks. She also understands what you say to her and knows when you want to be left alone. A trait some people don't have.

I am not a "dog" person or a "cat" person. Animals are great to have around, but not for me. I do not get attached to animals. I treat them nice and will feed them if absolutely necessary, but I have found that they demand too much of my time.

Back to my story. There I was standing in the kitchen looking down at this small animal, who was staring back at me with a look of confusion, surprise, sadness and most of all: a I'm sorry look on her little furry face.. I think I had my mouth open at the time. I forget. But I do remember the look she gave me. The male dog, having completed his deflowering, dastardly deed, sauntered jauntily away to leave Lilly to her own devices.

It was a scene out of a slasher flick. At the time I truly wanted to kill the male dog at that moment. I wanted to chop it up and stuff the parts into the garbage disposal. I wanted to wring its little neck.I wanted to hurt it really,really bad. It would, I think that at that time, it would have been a very happy experience for me. Fortunately the rage passed as quickly as it came,... to be replaced by a kind of sadness. I don't know. Even as I am writing this, I don't know.

Lilly has had her pups. She had six. Five survived. She's camped out in the back bedroom. We bring her food and water, because she won't stray far from her puppies. She goes out and does her business and comes right back. She sleeps on the floor next to the little basket we made up for her and her family. She will not let the other dog near her or her puppies. She's bitten him a couple of times that I know of.

I now have a perfect understanding of where the word "dog" comes from as applied to men. "The male dog eats his food in the kitchen, prances around the back yard barking to his hearts content. He still begs for scraps from the table and lounges on the couch on his back." Occasionally he sniffs around Lilly, to see if she's in heat, I suppose. She on the other hand, will have no part of it. Good dog.

You men out there, especially you black ones. You need to get your shit together. And you women. Damn. At least make him wear a condom. They. Are. Free. Have some respect for yourselves. I know a little dog who takes better care of her pups than you do of your own children. Damn. The door swings both ways, don'tcha know.

The Fool is going back up the hill. You can have this crazy shit.