That black something will haunt me
I watched the Michigan vs. Louisville game and at around 11 p.m. is the usual time that I take my dog Shelby out. Most of the time, taking out the dog is rather uneventful. It is usually me cheerleading on Shelby to take a deuce and then reinforcing she is doing a good job with “That’s a good girl Shelby.” Imagine me doing that with Ron Jeremy’s voice.
Shelby is getting older. She is pushing 15 years old, which makes her a senior citizen amongst the four leggeds. Shelby is like those 100 year old farts that Willard Scott used to show on the Today Show. Willard Scott would say in that very phony voice, “Isn’t she lovely?” Yeah Willard, some 100 year old broad is really stoked that her life revolves around Ensure and not smelling like pee — she is very lovely.
So, poor old Shelby need a walkin’.
The walk itself is rather easy. There are two routes I take. I can either take her in the front or in the rear. Of the house, you sickos.
When it’s late at night, I usually take her out in back. There’s better lighting out there, but Shelby’s walking is an issue. We have a long ramp of the side of the house, so I try to take her down that ramp as much as possible, which leads to the front of the house.
I walked to the front of the house and I noticed a coiled up and black looking something. This freaked me out. It freaked me out because at a causal glance it looked like a dead frog or a run over snake. It was dark out, so I couldn’t exactly make out what it was.
I’m standing there, freaking out over a dark something. Meanwhile, the dog is relieving herself and sniffing leaves. I said to the dog, “Wanna fetch that for Uncle Matt?” and I started to chuckle. Meanwhile, I was actually feeling a little anxiety trying to figure out what the hell that dark coiled something was.
I walked quickly to the house, getting creeped out every footstep I was taking to safety. By the fifth step, I began to have a morbid curiosity to what that dark something was. I hatched a plan.
I really needed to know at this point if that dark something was alive or dead. So I took a long branch and planned to chuck it at whatever that black something was on the ground.
I’d say I was about 12 feet away from the black something, so I calculated trajectory, wind resistance, angle, pitch and yaw. My brain was like NORAD (North American Aerospace Defense Command) trying to figure out how far I needed to heave this javelin I was holding. I picked up this branch and I threw it with a grunt for extra emphasis.
The branch soared about six feet — well sort of — hitting the black something. I looked like Chris Colfer from Glee singing Les Miserables trying to throw this fucking twig. This was totally emasculating and deflating. Forget the fact I was too scared to walk up to the black something and was basically tip-toeing around it, but the fact that I threw the branch with such deadly intentions and only have it travel a distance of six feet — time to hand in the manhood card.
I walked into the house, unhooked the dog from the leash and retreated to my room. I am never going to know what the black something is. And my throw was so lame. This dead frog-looking black something is going to haunt me. It’s going to haunt my dreams. It will be with me in the shower… it will be with me while I make dinner.
I threw that branch like a complete jerkoff and my psyche will never heal. It’s going to take years of therapy to erase this shame. Years of therapy…..