Thursday, 27 September 2012


 Ha! If you thought i was referring  to myself with that, no. The title is meant for a dog. Not just any dog. Angus. Growing up on a farm two hours north of Toronto, near Coboconk(don't make too much fun of it. Yah, I'm looking at you Dryhump). In the middle of Cottage Country.  At the cusp of the Canadian Shield. Where the summers are cooled off in Shadow Lake. And the winters are full of snow so bright that on a moon filled night it is like day. It makes you feel like you know a deep happy secret. It reminds you of times of your youth. When you would go tobogganing with your friends around midnight with Crown Royale to help you keep warm. A good feeling in your stomach, like butterflies, but good. Then there are times when you would walk west to head for chores and the wind is blowing in you face, then you turn north and it is blowing in your face again! What war did I lose to endure this? Wow. That was quite the digression. Where was I? Yes. Living on a farm we always had dogs. There was Boot, Rip, Belle, and Homer. I loved every dog, but none of these dogs ever stayed inside all day let alone sleep inside. Then there was Angus

 Two years ago Megan started fretting about getting a dog. I kept saying no. I didn't want a dog inside and sleeping and slobbering all over me, but secretly I was going to give her money on her birthday to get her one. Well, her birthday came and one month later we went to go get Angus, the boxer. Megan found him on Kijiji from a family that just couldn't afford two dogs at the moment. Our fortune..Leaving with Angus was sad. He kept looking out the back window like "where are you taking me?My family is back that way." Well at least when we got home he took to Megan. He wouldn't leave her side and he would have nothing to do with me. Great. I really didn't want a dog. Now we have one and he doesn't even like me. Slowly he started to warm up to me. With the feeding of popcorn and other treats.

 He ran away twice. The first time was through the front window screen a week after we got him. A day earlier I scolded Megan for leaving the side window open saying, "he could get out that way." The next day I opened the front window a little because I thought it was stuffy in the house and a little enough so Angus could get out. Idiot. I told Megan this when I came home at lunch and she phoned animal services. Apparently a boxer was found, but the woman who took the call was out for lunch. Megan eventually came home to look for him. Eventually after the woman who had the info on the boxer returned from lunch. Megan phoned the girl that found Angus. He had been running down Park Rd. So, we met her at her apartment building and gave her $100 in reward. She didn't want it, but we made her take it. The second time he ran away Megan was walking Angus to the store. She tied him outside to the lottery sandwich board. A man freaked out Angus and he bolted down Park again with sandwich board in tow. We looked for him for four hours. This time he was gone for good. Instead of feeling sad we tried to rationalize that he didn't like it here that is why he kept running away. 5:00am. There was a bang at the back door.Megan got up and looked out the back door from our bedroom(which is on the second floor of our house) and said, "Damn cat"(a story for later). Settling back down frustrated and  hoping that was Angus.Then there was another bang and she flew out of the bed and down stairs. I listened. There was a "click, click, click" across the floor and up the stairs and then that sad ugly face came up onto the bed, little tail and bum wagging. He had no collar which puzzled us. How did he lose this and get home? Was he captured then escaped? Or did it just work off then he made his way home? No matter, the prince was home, and thus began our life with Angus

 We did not get a dog we got another kid. He lays about the couch like he owns the place. Sometimes he lays on his back with his legs up in he air, like a dead animal on the side of the road. Oh, and his pillows, he lays his head on them and when he is sick of them he kicks each on of them off the couch.

 He whines at the back door for you to let him out and come out and play with him. Where he whines at you to throw something for him or he wants to growl and jump and bite you. Looking from the back window you see him playing with something then he snaps and tears around the backyard running in circles. When the kids are in the backyard and the neighbour kids too. He harasses them and follows them as if to say, "What now, guys?" And don't grab one of the kids and say, "I've got him, Angus" He growls and tries and succeeds in biting you. What is funny is when I hug Megan and he doesn't like it. He growls and barks at Megan, "Let go of my Daddy." And who says lovin' isn't a punch in the bag the odd time from a Boxer?

 Now to bed and sleeping. He sleeps on our bed when he pleases. You hear him pacing back and forth judging the jump. Then he comes flying up and flops down on my legs or laying on my shoulder up by my head. My personal favourite is how he pushes me over to the edge of the bed and I have only half of my body covered. Getting up and going to work is a different story. when I come back in from the bathroom there he is lying on my pillow all curled up and comfortable. "I am the Daddy now. Go to work." 

 He sits very pretty and that is why I call him Handsome, and doesn't he know that he is.. 


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