By Robert W. Creamer
If your best friend acts like Angus, you don't need an enemy
My dog is black. He is a little dog. His name is Angus. Most people think he is a Scottie. But he is not. His mother was a Scottie, but his father was not. His father was something else. Some say his father was a spitz. This may be so. But Angus does not look like a spitz. He looks like a little Scottie. He is all black.
My dog barks. He barks quite often. He barks at the mailman. He barks at the garbageman. He barks at the milkman. He barks at the laundryman. He has a very loud bark. He barks a long time. His bark is very annoying.
His bite is worse than his bark. He has very strong teeth. He likes to bite. He likes to bite the mailman best. He has bitten the mailman many times. Angus is not particular. When a new man is put on the route, Angus bites him too. Angus does not like uniforms. One day when the policeman came to see if Angus had his new license, Angus tried to bite him. But the policeman was too fast for Angus. Angus barked and barked. But the policeman poked him with a stick, and Angus did not bite him. We were very embarrassed because Angus did not have his new license, and we thought it might be against the law to bite a policeman without a license.
Angus is our watchdog. Sometimes when i come home alone late at night I pretend to be a burglar and sneak quietly into the house. Angus waits at the top of the stairs, looking down at the door. He is a very careful dog. When I open the door and slide in, he keeps very quiet. But when he sees that it is only me and not a burglar, then he feels much better. Then he barks. He barks until everybody wakes up so that he can show them it was not a burglar.
Angus is a much better watchdog early in the evening or during the day, when lots of people are around. Then he will bark at anyone without waiting to see who it is. He is very alert. If 1 get up and walk outside and turn around and come right back in, Angus leaps up, his hair bristling, his teeth bared, and growls deep in his throat between the barks. Even after i pet him and tell him to lie down and be quiet, he growls a little as if to say, "So-oo-oo, Master! I am a very alert watchdog!"
At night he is much quieter, unless he knows who it is.
Angus loves to fight. He is really very brave. He will fight anything. Usually he gets badly bitten, and we have to take him to the veterinarian and pay a lot of money to have him bandaged up. Then we nurse him back to health. He is very grateful. He runs outside and over to the neighbor's yard. He tries to chase the neighbor's dog out of the neighbor's yard. The neighbor's dog bites Angus. Then we have to take Angus to the veterinarian again.
Angus likes best to fight dogs as little as he is. Then he does not get bitten so badly. One day when 1 was walking with Angus he saw a little wirehaired he did not like. Angus growled and broke away from me. The little wirehaired growled. She waited for a minute and then turned and ran. Angus chased her through a hedge into a yard. A big brown Airedale was in the yard. A big black-and-white terrier was also in the yard. They were the little wirehaired's friends. Angus stopped very quickly. He decided he would not stay in that yard. He turned to go. The other dogs decided he would stay in that yard. And he did not go. Very soon Angus was lying on the ground, and the other dogs were taking turns biting him. The little wirehaired was taking turns with the big Airedale and the big terrier. I had to rescue Angus. I had to throw stones at the other dogs and say, "Here, sir! Here, now!"
It was great fun, throwing stones at other people's dogs in their own yards. The other dogs let Angus get up. Angus got up. He left the yard very quickly. He did not wait for me to walk home with him. He went home by himself. Angus runs very quickly for a dog with such short legs.
Angus likes beer cans. I like beer. But I do not throw the beer cans into the backyard. I throw the beer cans into the trash can and put the cover on top. I am not ashamed of liking beer. But sometimes neighbors don't understand. Sometimes they exaggerate things. So I drink the beer in the house and put the cans carefully in the trash can. But Angus is very smart. He runs down the street to a place where there is an embankment alongside the road. Here people going by in cars throw beer cans. You cannot see the beer cans from the road. But Angus can find them. Every day he goes down the street and gels a beer can and brings it back to our own yard. He bites it and worries it and growls at it until everybody watches him. Then he lakes it over to the neighbor's yard and tries to get the neighbor to throw it for him. The neighbor says to me, "I wish you'd put those beer cans of yours in the trash barrel. They look like hell lying around the yard." I did not know the neighbor until Angus began to bring him beer cans. Now he and I talk frequently. Mostly about beer cans.
Angus is a swell little dog, all right. He is 7 years old. Dogs his size usually live to be about 14. Seven more years.
Then I hope to get a turtle for my pet.
A Note from the Emperor:
This might be copyrighted material, used without permission. Since I am the Emperor, I don't require permission (see below). Technically, I own this copy, anyway, as I paid for the copy of the publication I cut it out of, many years ago, though I don't now recall exactly which publication is was. Please buy books by Robert W. Creamer.
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