The Dog Ate My Homework

I was late to my "Introduction to USPSA" class Saturday.

It was unavoidable.

The dog ate my homework.

His name was "Dusty".  He was a blond cocker spaniel ... with a docked tail (I always though it was cruel of his previous owners to dock his tail) and when he was happy,  his little stub of a tail wouldn't do much.  So he wagged his whole rear end.

So cute!

He was always happy.

I got him when I was in the  fifth grade, which would be about 1950.  He would be ... what ... sixty seven now?  In dog years (a seven-to-one ration) that would be something on the order of 6,530 years old (in :dog years").  That's pretty old for a dog.

Lately, he wasn't wagging his tail very often.  I could tell he was too old for much joy.  I think he was getting a little broke down.  For example, his hind legs didn't work so good any more, so he had to drag his ass from one side of the front room to the other.  He couldn't sleep with me any more, either; the bedroom is upstairs, which he couldn't navigate.  Which was, frankly, okay by me.  Stink? oh my!

And as for jumping in my bed to sleep with me?  Oh Argh!   It was pitiful to watch, until he got too old to .. as I said .. navigate the stairs.  Which was about 20 years ago.

Anyway, I discovered Saturday Morning (the day of my class) that he couldn't lift his head above the doggie bowl to eat his breakfast.  He didn't miss much ... I quit putting food in his bowl last year, but he never noticed because .. well, he couldn't see into it.  (I saved a TON of money on dog food this year!)

But he DID have sufficient energy to eat the paper that I had used to print my class notes on. Such an ungrateful creature!

Okay, so maybe I could have given him some fresh food, but it has been so long since I fed him, I think we both had forgotten what dog food looked like.

So Saturday, when I was suppose to be at the range by noon, I noticed that Dusty wasn't his natural exuberant self.  I think perhaps he had forgotten where his tail was, so he couldn't wag it. 
Who needs a cocker spaniel who can't wag?

Well, he had already forgotten his name.  And my name.  And the street address (which I had, as a loving pet owner,  taught him to bark out in octal bytes .. he WAS the pet of a computer programmer, after all!)

So Dusty is history, except that he had already cost me seven dollars and fifty cents for dog food (which he never ate, bless his loving heart!) this year.

So I got out my dust pan, swept him into it, and dumped him into the trash basket.

And I put his name on the dust pan:  "DUSTY"!
(I used an erasable marking pen; I may buy another dog!)

He was such a good dog .. he quit pooping on the carpet years ago and never caused me a bit of trouble until he made me late for my class yesterday.

I'll miss him.

Also, I'll have to remember to dust that corner which was, and will always (in my memory) be "Dusty's Corner"!

(sniff)  eyew ... maybe I'll dust that corner tonight ... it's getting a little ripe.

To my credit, I didn't tell the folks in my class that I was late because "the dog ate my homework".

That's so lame!