Dogs are Stoopid

I woke this morning to the sound of the dog downstairs being incredibly whiney, which of course meant he had to go to the bathroom. Why he had to wake me up for this, I don't know; he never wakes up the housemate when he's home. But fine, whatever. So I get up (an hour earlier than I'd wanted to) and pull on some sweatpants, flip flops and a tank top and head downstairs. You'd think that dog was dying he was so loud and pathetic sounding. It took me a few minutes to get him to calm down enough for me to open the door and look out to make sure the coast was clear of any people or other animals.

Last night the neighbors had shut their puppy outside in the rain--horrible people, I know!--so we had to take a walk for the dog to pee, as I'm always afraid he's going to get in a fight with another dog or chase a cat faster than I can run. The housemate always just lets him out and expects him to come back in when he's done; doesn't even keep an eye on him. I always do, however, so out he goes this morning and walks directly into the grass and starts peeing like a mofo.

As if by fate of my standing there, two german sheapards come rushing over to the dog (a large lab) and being dogs, they immediately get into it. I muster my deepest manly voice and start shouting "No!"--which actually worked and all three dogs kinda just stopped what they were doing and hung their heads. I walked out there to pull the dog back inside as some guy down the way called his two dogs back over to him. I'm still shaking; the last thing I want is to get caught up in the middle of a three-dog fight, letalone have anything happen to the housemate's dog. Fuck. That was so not how I wanted to wake up today!