Friday, November 30, 2012

Rolling roulette of ideas

I spend a good bit of my day driving. At least 3 hours shuttling my brother to the workshop he goes to. The gas is more expensive than the paycheck he gets. What is the benefit? There is someone there who gives a damn if he shows up. If by some sort of catastrophe befalls me, someone will come get him.

I live a spoiled life. I'm not rich, not poor. I have a car that works, social skills that people will help me, enough money to make my bills, relatively good health, judgement, a retirement check. Its not the life I dreamed of when young. I never was motivated by money. Thrills would be my passion. I like having a good time. Money is just a tool for getting what you want.

When you ride by yourself in a car, you have time to think. I have a pit bull terrier that rides back and forth with me. I stop and buy her a sausage biscuit at Hardee's in the morning. The biscuits are good but I'm burnt out. As far as I can tell Louise still enjoys her biscuit. I thought about getting one for myself this morning. However, I am picky about sausage. I lean toward the plain, bacon or steak biscuits. I wondered whether she had a preference.

Louise is in my car because of the horse farm next door. She has had a bone broken by a horse. A horse kicked one of my elderly dogs and she made it home to die on her blanket on the front walk. Being a pit bull, the horse farm owners are scared she will hurt one of their horses. So Louise stays on a leash or with me. I agree people should not breed powerful dogs for family pets. However, my chihuahua mixes can do damage with their jaws. Louise cracks pecans and the chihuahua mixes eat out of her mouth in the process. A dog is a lot like people. They have the habits of the company they keep. I don't allow her to run with the chihuahuas

Dogs have always been part of my life. We had a member of the family that happened to be a dog when I grew up. Winky disappeared one rainy night between Thanksgiving and Christmas when I was in Seventh Grade. Neighbors suggested that he went off to die. Dogs were in heat and Winky had been injured in a fight the last time we saw him. He ran off that night again to do what a dog has to do.

The next dog was Bruno. My mom had said she wanted another dog like Winky but one that would not climb the fence. Bruno was brown but he eventually turned red and looked a lot like Winky with short legs. He only weighed about 20 pounds but he had a big dog voice. He would get under the house and bark and people were scared to come in our yard.

Bruno was the big pet of my younger siblings. My older brother was taking a guided tour of Vietnam courtesy of Uncle Sam. I wrote him a letter about Bruno when we got him. I just didn't tell him it was a dog until the end. I went to college when Bruno was three. He would greet me like a small child when I came home. My affection for Bruno faded into family stories of his escapades.

Bruno was also trained to stay in his fence. If a dog went in heat, my dad would open the gate and let him out. I was old enough to joke that maybe we should take Bruno to a doggie cathouse.

On one of Bruno's days out with the neighborhood male dogs wooing a fetching neighbor, a friend of my dad saw the dogcatcher and tipped my dad off.  My mom and dad got in their automobile. They saw the dogcatcher in front of the house.  Dad drove through the alley behind the house and opened the back door. Bruno ran and jumped in the backseat like a gangster. My parents drove to a corner store and drank a soda to hide their deeds. You do tend to help a family member when you can.

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