A dog from hell lives here.


I should be working right now. I have my computer in front of me and i should be doing something related to what they pay me for. Instead, i am writing about my fucking dog. Don’t get me wrong, i like my dog. But this small size portion of devil incarnate on four legs is incapable of staying home alone without throwing a tantrum.

We have this ritual: we have to close every door of every room so he gets the rest of the house for itself. It can roam from floor to floor without a single worry because we let it. He has access to the outside patio so i’d say that it is a pretty nice accommodation for this petite doggo. But fuck you if you think it’s going to let you get out of the house safely. No way. It’ll jump, it’ll will scratch its way through the door as you’re trying to leave. It will grab on to your shoes like it’s the last bone it will ever have. And then, just when you think that, phew, i’m out alive (!!), you’ll hear a banging on the door. Not a gentle bang either. It is like it has transformed into a fucking bulldozer and it is trying to tear the house down. If people happen to be walking by, they might think i have someone trapped in my house. They wouldn’t be wrong but it is a 12KG pooch with the ability to tear down a fucking door.

when it transforms.

But today takes the cake. This four-legged satan’s sidekick decided to fucking hide. And we live in a big house. I had to search for him. Room by room, i checked. No sign. I’m not running late but i like to arrive with time to prepare my shit. But by now, i am getting frustrated. Where the fuck is this thing? I check twice every room, i even go outside on the off chance that it might have jumped the patio or whatever. No luck. I’m starting to panic a little bit. You see, my wife left yesterday for a few days and i don’t want to tell her i lost the dog on day 1 by ourselves. I get back to the kitchen, which was the first place i checked and closed. I open the door and i fucking see it hiding under the table! I’ve been looking for it for the past minutes and there it is, in the first place i checked, just chillin’.

We cross looks and we both know it’s game on. I go for it, try to pick it up and it just starts biting me. Gently but you know, like, beware you fuck, these teeth will leave you scarred. Shit, can’t have that happen. So i grab him by the neck, like dogs do when they pick their litter and this satanic wiggly thing just tries to bite me. For real, biting! I get him out of the kitchen while hoping to still retain all my fingers in one hand and i drop it in the hall. I turn quickly to shut the door of the kitchen and BAM, i slam my head on this fucking doorway. I let myself go down on my knees, absorbing this pain that either has blinded me or makes it impossible to open my right eye, i don’t really know which. I’m just thinking, don’t do it, you won’t be able to explain to your wife how the dog went missing. Because at this point, i might just arrggg, you know, just maybe a small kick to the head or something. But no, of course not. It looks at me, i look at it and we both kinda just let it go.

I’m in pain, my head hurts, this dog is looking at me wiggling his tail and i have to leave. It follows me down, i open the door and it just looks at me. Like, hope you learn your lesson, you idiot!

This fucking dog owns me and it knows.

Santiago Roque

Author: santiago roque

I can predict the future. If given the right topic. Often confusing, i am mostly me on emotional steroids.

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