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The inner workings of the mind of Malcolm, distinguished canine.
Friday, December 05, 2003
Log 007:
In the name of exploration, I have given much. I have sacrificed time, energy, and relationships with fellow canines and humans alike. I have been so driven by my desire to explore a new concept in engineering; or to complete a philosophical thought-process that I have forgone eating and sleeping in my drive for excellence. Yesterday, I sacrificed some wayward tufts of fur along with my dignity.
It was a balmy, pleasant afternoon. The temperature was hovering around the 78 degree mark, and the winds were relatively calm. As I basked in the sun and considered the ramifications of proliteriat voting on the upper class, I was interrupted by Callie, who plodded over to "see what I was doing" as I sprawled happily in the sun. Her dripping saliva and offensive noises going from her intestinal tract were more than an annoyance-- it was the equivalent of a nail in my intellectual tire. I could not continue my thoughts with her standing over me and panting like an overweight Special Olympics "athlete." I had to retreat to a location where she could not reach me.
I stood, shaking off her presence, and walked quickly and with purpose towards the west fence. In the past, I had considered slipping my small frame under the fence and retiring to the quiet, unoccupied yard of the next door neighbors. I knew there to be no resident animals--canine or feline--in that yard, and I knew I could have some precious solitary time there. Today, with Callie loudly trotting along behind me, I decided today was the day I would attempt the crossing.
I was, in fact, able to squeeze beneath the fence, only managing to upset my hair but a little. The yard was exquisite in its quiet solitude. The trees whispered softly in the wind, the gravel and grass was unspoiled by large animal droppings, and best of all, my lunkhead canine 'friend' could not follow me, as there was no way the laws of physics would bend to enable her large frame to fit under that fence. I was free.
I spent the better portion of two hours enjoying my relaxation. There were no interruptions, no showers of offensive dog saliva from above. Rather, I explored the entire yard and found it to be rich in various materials I could salvage for future experiments and projects, the nature of which I cannot discuss for legal purposes.
Soon, however, I was in need of hydration and headed back to the fence to return to the house and quench my thirst. To my shock, I could not seem to fit back under the fence from which I had entered. There were landscaping stones impeding my exit. I surmised that the stones were positioning in a way that had enabled me to enter the new yard, but prevented my leaving. I pawed and dug near the stones to try to gain some clearance space, but alas, I could not make any progress.
Shortly afterwards, I heard Lisa calling my name. She was apparently searching for me throughout the house and, not finding me there, had moved out to the yard. I could hear the oaf Callie following her around the yard as she looked for me. As much as I didn't like to admit it, I knew that if I made my presence known to her, she would be able to use her hands, and thumbs, to help me escape from the yard. The only caveat was that, in letting her know about my secret retreat location, she might prevent me from returning. She is hell-bent on keeping me in the yard.
My mouth parched, I finally caved in and scratched my paws in the dried leaves near the fence to give her an audible clue to my location. She did find me and then spent a solid five minutes trying to coax me back through the gap in the fence. I attempted pushing my body through again, only to end up scraping off some of my fur on the bottom of the wood slats. I tried to tell her that I needed her active help, not her cheerleading. I needed her to find my backhoe and begin to dig me out.
Shortly afterwards, I heard Lisa call to Tom. He bent down and reached his thin arms under the fence and even he could not pull me to safety. I heard Lisa say she was going to try to enter the neighbor's property from another avenue. She returned soon afterwards, telling Tom that no one was home and the gate was locked. She spoke to Tom as though I was not there, which humiliated me and made me feel like a naive child. Which I am not. I have an IQ far superior to theirs combined; I just happened to have been born in the body of a five-pound canine.
At long last, Tom moved the landscaping stones aside and, with his assistance, I was able to make it back through to "our side" of the fence. As soon as Lisa and Tom were finished cooing over me and asking me: "Malcolm, how did you get over there, baby?" I tucked my tail down and ran quickly back to my apartment-cage to be alone once more.
I will return to that quiet yard very soon. On my next journey, I will be sure to bring the plastic explosives kit in the event that I need to blast my way back out of the yard. He that underestimates me is but a fool.
In the name of exploration, I have given much. I have sacrificed time, energy, and relationships with fellow canines and humans alike. I have been so driven by my desire to explore a new concept in engineering; or to complete a philosophical thought-process that I have forgone eating and sleeping in my drive for excellence. Yesterday, I sacrificed some wayward tufts of fur along with my dignity.
It was a balmy, pleasant afternoon. The temperature was hovering around the 78 degree mark, and the winds were relatively calm. As I basked in the sun and considered the ramifications of proliteriat voting on the upper class, I was interrupted by Callie, who plodded over to "see what I was doing" as I sprawled happily in the sun. Her dripping saliva and offensive noises going from her intestinal tract were more than an annoyance-- it was the equivalent of a nail in my intellectual tire. I could not continue my thoughts with her standing over me and panting like an overweight Special Olympics "athlete." I had to retreat to a location where she could not reach me.
I stood, shaking off her presence, and walked quickly and with purpose towards the west fence. In the past, I had considered slipping my small frame under the fence and retiring to the quiet, unoccupied yard of the next door neighbors. I knew there to be no resident animals--canine or feline--in that yard, and I knew I could have some precious solitary time there. Today, with Callie loudly trotting along behind me, I decided today was the day I would attempt the crossing.
I was, in fact, able to squeeze beneath the fence, only managing to upset my hair but a little. The yard was exquisite in its quiet solitude. The trees whispered softly in the wind, the gravel and grass was unspoiled by large animal droppings, and best of all, my lunkhead canine 'friend' could not follow me, as there was no way the laws of physics would bend to enable her large frame to fit under that fence. I was free.
I spent the better portion of two hours enjoying my relaxation. There were no interruptions, no showers of offensive dog saliva from above. Rather, I explored the entire yard and found it to be rich in various materials I could salvage for future experiments and projects, the nature of which I cannot discuss for legal purposes.
Soon, however, I was in need of hydration and headed back to the fence to return to the house and quench my thirst. To my shock, I could not seem to fit back under the fence from which I had entered. There were landscaping stones impeding my exit. I surmised that the stones were positioning in a way that had enabled me to enter the new yard, but prevented my leaving. I pawed and dug near the stones to try to gain some clearance space, but alas, I could not make any progress.
Shortly afterwards, I heard Lisa calling my name. She was apparently searching for me throughout the house and, not finding me there, had moved out to the yard. I could hear the oaf Callie following her around the yard as she looked for me. As much as I didn't like to admit it, I knew that if I made my presence known to her, she would be able to use her hands, and thumbs, to help me escape from the yard. The only caveat was that, in letting her know about my secret retreat location, she might prevent me from returning. She is hell-bent on keeping me in the yard.
My mouth parched, I finally caved in and scratched my paws in the dried leaves near the fence to give her an audible clue to my location. She did find me and then spent a solid five minutes trying to coax me back through the gap in the fence. I attempted pushing my body through again, only to end up scraping off some of my fur on the bottom of the wood slats. I tried to tell her that I needed her active help, not her cheerleading. I needed her to find my backhoe and begin to dig me out.
Shortly afterwards, I heard Lisa call to Tom. He bent down and reached his thin arms under the fence and even he could not pull me to safety. I heard Lisa say she was going to try to enter the neighbor's property from another avenue. She returned soon afterwards, telling Tom that no one was home and the gate was locked. She spoke to Tom as though I was not there, which humiliated me and made me feel like a naive child. Which I am not. I have an IQ far superior to theirs combined; I just happened to have been born in the body of a five-pound canine.
At long last, Tom moved the landscaping stones aside and, with his assistance, I was able to make it back through to "our side" of the fence. As soon as Lisa and Tom were finished cooing over me and asking me: "Malcolm, how did you get over there, baby?" I tucked my tail down and ran quickly back to my apartment-cage to be alone once more.
I will return to that quiet yard very soon. On my next journey, I will be sure to bring the plastic explosives kit in the event that I need to blast my way back out of the yard. He that underestimates me is but a fool.
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