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Mud, Blood, and Dog Crap
{July 17, 2002}

Summer is in full swing, and that means people are wearing less clothing than they really should be. If you're like most people, you're out at the pool scopin' out some flesh. If you're like me, you're sitting in front of your computer recalling a humiliating incident when you found yourself standing in your boxers covered in mud, blood, and dog crap. Go gather the kids around the monitor and let's all relive the moment as if it had just happened...

In the early summer of 2000, I was living in a ground-level apartment in west Knoxville. The living room had a sliding glass door that opened up to a lovely wooded buffer between my crappy apartment and a deadly road. Attached to a post on my porch was a 20 foot dog leash. Whenever my best friend, Guido, wanted to go outside I would put him on the leash and return to my studies. By studies, of course, I mean watching comedy and screwing around on the computer while drinking myself into oblivion.

I was working second shift at the time, so I didn't have to wake up until mid-afternoon.. this lent itself to many nights of drunken debauchery. I woke one morning after such a bout with fate to find Guido on my chest, licking my face. This is Dog Talk for "let me outside." Come to think of it, it's also Dog Talk for "I'm hungry," "let's play," and "Ahh, yes. I just wanted to drag my nuts across your body." Once again, I've digressed.

Stumbling out of bed, I put Guido out on his special "neglect your dog" leash, and then went right back to bed. Within a few seconds I was fast asleep and worry free. I slept about 10 minutes before being woken up by the unmistakable sounds of a vicious dog fight.

Leaping to my feet and running into the living room, I had no time to put on clothes or my glasses. I got around the corner just in time to see a giant bulldog chomp down his jaws around Guido's neck. I ran right outside and started punching the dog in the ribs. He wouldn't let go. I lost my mind and did the dumbest thing possible: I grabbed his jaws with my hands and pulled his mouth open. Now, kids.. don't ever do that. Guido dropped from his grip and was free.. and then the giant, mean dog clamped his jaws down on my hands. It was a bad idea from the very beginning, and now I knew why. Ouch.

I got my hands free and screamed like a drunk Mexican hooker. The big dog got a hold of Guido again. I kicked the dog a few times, but that didn't help. I grabbed its neck and began strangling it. This did the trick. Guido got free from the dog's grip, dropped to the ground, and attacked the dog's rear legs.

A guy walking his dog had ran up to us and asked me if I needed help. I stepped out of myself for a moment and looked around. The hot chick upstairs was on her balcony, her jaw dropped to the ground. The couple next door were looking out their window and on the phone, probably calling the police. Both the guy walking his dog and his dog were staring at me like I was insane. I was wearing only my boxers.. covered in mud, blood, and dog crap.. holding a large dog off the ground strangling him to death.. while my dog bites his ass.

We ended up calling the dog catcher and had the dog hauled off. Unfortunately, I didn't get to kill it, but I'm sure somebody else has since then.

I've tried to come up with a moral to this story, but I'm not sure there is one. I'm just glad I wasn't sleeping in the nude.