Verbal Remedy AKA Denise

Verbal Remedy AKA Denise
Del Mar, California, The One That's In A State Of Steep Decline
January 18
Much preferred to the alternative.
Born. Grew up. Kept growing up. Started growing older. Still at both the growing up and growing older. Stay tuned.


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MARCH 31, 2009 7:03PM

The Animal Goes Mad

Rate: 54 Flag

My completely mental dog

The petsitters just emailed me this photo of Dax at the dog park. You may note a certain...arrrroooooo?...quality about his doofy little face today.

This is because he probably senses I may need to kill him this evening.

Come backward, gentle reader, on a journey to hours gone by. Hours like, say, 4:00 am. This morning.

Out here in the glorious land touched by the sun, it is full-on spring, and the not-wild, not-domesticated tree-and-bush-dwelling critters are perchance doing what it is they do in the spring.

That is to say, they are fucking.

Last night--or, more accurately, very early this bloody morning--two raccoons apparently decided to get amorous on top of my back patio gazebo-ish thing. Which is covered in some clear plastic (rainproofing for those seven days a year it sprinkled). 

Now, even without the benefit of overhead amplification via plastic roofing, two amorous raccoons doing their mating ritual sound like a pile of rabid weasels, angry chihuahuas, pissed off cats, and a deeply twisted Donald Duck, all thrown in a blender on a random speed like, say, "Ice Crush."

Add to that their rough-and-tumble *run run thump* I Vant You! / Hisssssssssssssssss! You Can't Haf Me! / *scramble scramble thump* I Really Vant You! / Hisssssssss bark-bark-bark Not Yet, My Love! routine--which, I'm not saying lasts for twenty-five minutes or more, but yeah, maybe it does--and you have a whole hell of a lot of noise already. Like moving guys in the apartment overhead, if the apartment overhead is also infested by giant mutant rats, and they are attacking the moving guys.

So there was that noise.

Which initially awoke me from what had been a fine, well-deserved, half-a-bottle-of-red-topped-with-a-Maker's-Mark-chaser sleep, thank you little black-masked bastards very much.

But then, within seconds, there was also the sound of...FIENDHOUND.

To say Dax has a high prey drive is like saying the Pope has a high pray drive. To say Dax goes blindly, disturbingly psychotic when he encounters any form of Not-Dog is to say that Jeffrey Dahmer might have gotten a bit peckish when he encountered young drifters. 

Before my eyes were even open--before I had any notion of the border between asleep and awake--Dax had gone all Incredible Hulk on us. (Mr. Remedy, who sleeps wearing considerably more than I do, was first on the scene).




(If I could run all those together for effect, and crank up the font to 200, I might be able to begin to convey the seemingly impossible stream of uninterrupted, no-breathing-in-between crazed animal noise, and the night-shattering decibels it achieved.)

Here I will abbreviate the next two hours. We wrestled him indoors and closed the door to the back patio (where the *thump* Ahhhh, my love, I have you! *skitter skitter skitter thump thump*  Yes, oh yes, you do! But not for long! continued unabated).

We attempted to calm and comfort our dog, whose everyday dozing, sweet persona had utterly fled, chased out by the emergence of his very own inner Ozzy Ozborne-with-a-Bat.

We tried everything we know.

No dice.

Defeated (it was now 4:30 am) we locked him in a different part of the house.




Row! Row row row!

Awww row row!

scratch scratch scratch scratch (Original 1929 doors. Gah.)

whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine! whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine!

I went back to bed and stewed and failed to sleep due to the yapping, whining, crying, yowling, rrrowring, and finally conceded defeat at 5:30.

I left the house at 6:30. Dax was still frothing and manic.

I got an email from Mr. Remedy at 8:00, saying Dax was still  (and here I quote) "batshit insane."

An hour ago, he wrote to tell me the housekeeper (don't judge!) called him, concerned, because Dax has been in the back yard, staring up at where the two fucking raccoons were twelve hours ago, still barking his head off.

And so, you see, despite the fact that he may look sweet and confused and rather contrite in the photo the dogsitter

I'm afraid my dog may have just snapped. Possibly for good.

I'm afraid I may need to commit canicide.

Because I WILL sleep tonight.

Amorous neighborhood bushytails be damned.

(Would it be wrong to give Dax a couple of White Russians? He's already had some, albeit not in a planned way, over the years...)

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Most days I'm really glad to have him. Tonight, if those little bandits start it up again, I'm finding a hose. And aiming at ALL of the four-legged creatures in sight. I will. Oh, yes I will.
This is truly one of the funniest posts I've read in awhile. The "canicide" was brilliant. And your dog does look so sweet and innocent. Take care of yourself...your dog might not be the only living thing in your home that has snapped. Thanks for a good laugh.
I hear you loud and clear, happing here every night for a week...sigh.

Rated in sympathy and for the excellent imitation of the howling.
You are brilliantly hilarious when you are enraged and sleep-deprived.

Good doggie!

awwww... and I thought cats trying to eat my toes was bad...
Laughed and laughed about those mating raccoons. I just loved the imagined dialogue.

A friend has a Golden Retriever who goes batshit over thunder - ripped apart her couch once. Her vet gave her some kind of doggie anxiety meds (pretty sure she fed them to the dog, tho she did seem awfully calm after the next thunderstorm). If Dax is still after the coons tonight, it's got to be a thought! Sorry to enjoy myself at your expense, but I appreciate the day brightener.
In defense of the poor beasties, that big tail does make the thumpathumpa a more intricate maneuver!
The crazy ones always look cute.
That actually may be my philosophy for life, now that I think about it.
Rated for so-so-true. May you sleep tonight, dear dog lover.
"batshit insane" wow, that says it all. --rated-- for raccoon coitus!
I just got home. (Did the post-then-commute thing.)

He's in the back yard barking at the hot tub.

I am throwing Dax at you, Cherie...
That is some kisser. Two different colored eyes? That nose? I could forgive a lot.

A lot.

Not that, though.

I volunteer to help with hose duty.
I thought only cats had this kind of hallucination! Although with them it's about stuff that was never there in the first place.

Yes, it's very funny to read (including I loved your narration of raccoon rogering) but I know what a nightmare it must have been to live through!
This was funny.
My suggestion for you and Mr. Verbal--get rid of the dog, get a cat, name the cat Dax, and never speak of this again.
I was hoping you were going to write about this. I know it wasn't pleasant for you, but this was funny as hell to read. If those love-starved critters come back tonight, would hitting them with the garden hose help? Surely they can get lucky somewhere other than on top of your gazebo-ish thing while torturing the dog.
They were FUCKING? Can we say that? :-D
Awesome, nothing is more intensely scary than two cats.
RATED for the "F" word. I used it on a fucking occasion.
that's what you get for adopting a giant mutant whippet (is that what Dax is?) He seems ok with you non dogs, but then maybe he thinks you two are alpha beta dogs in the same tribe he's in. After all...he probably gets all "Damn these guys are great hunters and brought me food again tonight!"

Hoping you have a quiet night broken only by apneal snorts from Mr Remedy.
Giant Mutant Whippet is what his adoption certificate from the pound said, Barry. I'm quite certain of it.

Mr. Remedy just took the dog in for a therapeutic shower.

Did I mention he spent all day yesterday PUKING ALL OVER THE HOUSE? (My fault. Figured he could handle the cow's knuckle.)

And that when I let him out first thing in the morning, he took a big smelly restroom break right in front of the door?

Seriously, this mammal is begging for something, and it ain't doggie treats.
a small piece of marijuana would be just the thing...
brownie... I meant marijuana brownie. A small piece of marijuana brownie.
Now, Dynomite, you just might be onto something...

But isn't that a terrible waste of unobtanium?
This is really really funny! Especially since I have a number of prey driven dogs in residence. I have a whole retinue of tales regarding same. My solution to raccoons is to let the dogs have them. It's the raccoon's problem at my house. They could easily be torn to pieces by my three or four canines, although the last time they got one, I made them put it down so it could skitter away never again to be seen in my barn. It does cool the jets of the varmint, and of the dog. Good luck!
CBerg--do I have to teach him to climb trees to get to the beasties?


He did catch a baby possum once. Poor little thing. Didn't actually hurt it--it wasn't cut or bleeding, just frozen from possum fear but still breathing when we put it outside in a tree. Alas, its little body was stone cold on the ground the following morning. Poor little beastie.

(I am happy that I could turn my rotten effin' morning into some laughs for y'all. Thanks!)
While I've awakened to similar, I've never seen it described so well - especially in writing! I heard every noise! I've heard benedryl is pretty safe as a dog sedative . . .
Row! Row row row!
Awww row row! Perfect impersonation of the bark slowing down. Very, very funny.

Hope tonight is better for you.
Funny. The perfect description of that face is "doofy." Ha! Sweet dreams.
I haven't laughed out loud so hard, so many times since geez---I don't know---since there were good shows on TV. Sorry about your sleep, dog, etc (and Kidos on having the good taste of Makers Mark) but this is fucking hilarious!
That lovely dog has a Mr. Hyde within! I´m sorry you didn´t sleep and your dog has gone crazy, but this is so really funny and well written, I loved it!
Oh, sure. NOW that we're sitting on the couch, bleary-eyed, watching Angel (sob! Andy Hallett cannot be dead!) the Fiendhound is dozing happily.

You all have no idea how tempted I am to just pick him up and yell in his widdle ear.

There's nothing like spring in downtown San Diego.
Rearry rearry good! woof!
Verbal - I know the sound of which you write very well. Multiply by 3 when the coonhound, the pointer cross, and the lab decide whatever is walking through the backyard is going to kill their family! Horror! But that is one awesome dog you've got there, mutant or not.
Another post that reminds me why I'm not a pet person, though in does me no good to be so sensible, since I'm surrounded by OPD -- other people's dogs that bark INCESSANTLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am quite certain that my eternal sojourn in Hell will be accompanied by the endless, senseless yapping of a choir of canines.
Hilarious!! Him is a good Li'l Turkey him is......

"To say Dax has a high prey drive is like saying the Pope has a high pray drive. To say Dax goes blindly, disturbingly psychotic when he encounters any form of Not-Dog is to say that Jeffrey Dahmer might have gotten a bit peckish when encountering young drifters."

I think that paragraph is a masterpiece in the history of humor writing!
This: "To say Dax goes blindly, disturbingly psychotic when he encounters any form of Not-Dog is to say that Jeffrey Dahmer might have gotten a bit peckish when encountering young drifters."


Hose him down and give him a drink. Or both.

This is hilarious. Okay, maybe less so for you, but I thought it was a riot.

Dax is one cute dog. And we all know how adorable raccoons are. How you gonna yell at any one of their sweet faces?
Aw... you can't stay mad for long looking at a face like that... This was the funniest thing I've read on OS for a long time. Thank you.
While I'm so sorry about your lack of sleep and being jolted out of it like that, this is HYSTERICAL!

You are not alone. Ours do this with armadillos.
I wish I was a fucking raccoon.
I have a Staffie that will dislocate my shoulder when he's on leash and even hears mention of a squirrel, so I feel your pain.
Love your voice! I'm waiting for the 'Raccoon Story, The Morning After'!
Wow. If only there was a font to convey how hard I was laughing just then. Great post, as usual :D
That reply to Barry, I had a moment where I thought you were referring to Mr. Remedy. THAT was monumental laugh.

Uh, if said critters are fornicating on TOP of the gazebo, try slathering it completely with vegetable oil. Should make things interesting. :-D

If there just IN the gazebo, get the whippet an IPOD shuffle with ear buds.

Sweet dreams tonight, Denise. Dreams of ringtailed ninjas noisly coupling.
Happy to be able to report we re-loaded the batteries in his shock collar, put it on him at bedtime, locked the door to the back patio (also his only doggie door opening, but oh well...he can hold it!), sternly sent him to sleep, and best of all, the ringtailed amour did not repeat in the same place last night.


Dax is looking at me very disapprovingly right now. I think he's insulted that I've violated his privacy.

Will take earplugs, brownies, extra wine, and all other advice under serious advisement. :-D
V-bal, you have outdone yourself. I can't stop laughing!!! Put Dax in a SARONG, Harold! Or, well, if you have any, give him a Valium. Dammit, after reading this, *I* need a Valium.
Aw. All you did was make me miss my little guy. sniff.
It's almost like "The Raven"...only about a dog!
'Take Thy Muzzle from My Heart'--rayted for fiendish yet lovable animal~
Great post - great writing!! Your dog is so cute and sweet (at least the silent portrait is). Highly rated for excellent, accurate dog noises. I would rate again for raccoon love-making effects but it makes the counter go downwards.
caught you Dax! ::pat pat::

Now let your humans get a bit more sleep and they won't be so grumpy........
Update: It Got The Hose This Morning. 5:00 am.

Damned fornicating mammals, get out of my yard!

Damned idiot dog, get it through your skull that this is not a reason to go berserk! Repeatedly!

HAHA! 'tis the season for love...
Femme Forte (aka Candice Mann) sent me. I laughed, I commiserated, I chortled, and more than anything, I fell in love with that DOG! What a face!
They don't respond to hoses or flashlights when in the throes.