Wednesday, October 21, 2009

From "Rich Boy Cries For Mama"

I was eight years old and my parents had just put two of our dogs to sleep.

Father came home and I could hear the barking of a new dog before he opened the door. That was the funny power a new dog had on kids our age. We forgot about the old dog. We forgot to be mad. When it came to dogs, we were only loyal to the newest one. "I'm naming this one," he said. King Arthur was a fully-grown sheep dog. He was large with white and grey fur. Arthur lumbered about the house before us.
"I know it's not a puppy, but then again it doesn't need to be housebroken and it won't cry all night," said Father over the phone to Mother.
"I know, I'm sorry. Next time I will discuss this with you beforehand. It was a spur of the moment thing, I said I'm sorry!" Arthur came to an abrupt stop in front of Father and planted his ass on the ground, lifted his leg high in the air and began to lick his asshole. Father's eyes fixed on Arthur and he had a look as if he thought he might have made a mistake. Sister and I went outside to play with the new dog. I ran around the yard and he chased after me. Sister watched, then she ran. Arthur caught her, knocking her to the ground, and sat on her.
"Get him off of me!" she screamed and I laughed. Father was still on the phone, watching from the kitchen. He ran out and pulled the dog off of Sister.
"Bad dog! Bad dog!"
He smacked Arthur on the nose but it had no effect on the dog. His tongue hung happily from his mouth over his white teeth, the corners of his mouth were turned up. Right away I knew Arthur didn't fit in. The next day Arthur knocked Sister down again and sat on her. There was nothing more entertaining than watching what resembled a giant mop lumber over to Sister and sit on top of her. She would scream, but Arthur wouldn't budge. As a matter of fact, it just seemed to give him pleasure. Sister was too small to defend herself and rather than find her smothered under the ass of the dog, the parents sent King Arthur to Maryland to live with a young man on a farm. Father brought us to ensure that we knew the dog wasn't put to sleep. Arthur jumped out of the car and ran in the field next to the farm. Father looked a little sad. "Well, I thought he might miss us a little, but he seems perfectly happy on the farm. He didn't even look back."

"Don't worry, Father," said Sister on the drive back. "We can get a new dog."
"Yeah, but this time we are coming with you to pick it out," I added.

-Ethan Minsker

No comments: