Say to anyone in town, "you know that guy who walks around with the comb in his hair?" And they'll say back, "you mean the guy with all the dogs?" Exactly, the guy with all the dogs.
This guy, with the comb stuck in his hair and also who pushes a lawn mower, walks around town with two or three dogs on ropes. He walks to the south side and sits in the shade of what used to be a home improvement store but now holds a church youth group. He sits on the steps of the Salvation Army church. He cuts grass here and there, and he has a comb.
Small towns don't have homeless people wandering on the street in the same way that cities do (not to say that small towns don't have homeless people--they just don't wander around the street so that you can say, "look, he must be homeless"). But the guy with the comb in his hair reminds me of the men who stood outside the Lawson Y in Chicago when I was in college, the ones who made me want to cross the street to the other side. I used to think he actually was homeless until I saw where he parks his lawn mower and ties up the dogs. He seems to live in a house on a street I usually only drive on when I want to avoid a series of red lights.
I turned onto this street one afternoon in an attempt to make it home a little faster than if I had gone the usual way. Just as I made the turn, a guy who apparently had a warrant out for his arrest pulled out from a parking spot and clipped the back tire rim of my brand new PT Cruiser. I pulled over expecting to see big damage, but all I got was a rubber smudge from the felon's bumper. What the escaped convict got was a bumper that completely ripped off the back of his sloppy piece of crap car. He sped off with a screech, turned a corner onto an over pass, and left his bumper in the middle of the street.
The guy with the comb in his hair walked around from the back of his house and said that he had been cutting the grass around the corner and saw the whole thing. He pointed out that the bumper was on the overpass and that he would stick around to talk to the police if I wanted. So, the guy with the comb in his hair is very nice--a responsible citizen.
Anyway, he collects these dogs and keeps them tied up in and around the house on the corner. Someone must have reported the situation because the dog warden paid a visit and took a few dogs that were in really bad shape. Before she could come back and get the rest (there were 29 plus a few sick cats), the guy with the comb in his hair let some go. I'm not sure what that means--"let some go"--are there now dogs running loose? She was at least able to get 19 dogs, all of them too emaciated to be saved, and now she has to euthanize them all.
It's a sad case, and too bad for the dogs, but I don't understand where all they all came from in the first place. We don't seem to have packs of them roaming the edges of the village snatching up sheep--although there were two that killed 11 goats the other day on a farm just outside of town. Maybe they were the ones he "let go."
I have no real point with this story, except that I feel bad for the dogs, and I was surprised to see the guy with the comb in his hair just a couple of days ago--he had two dogs on ropes, and he was headed toward the shaded steps of the Salvation Army. So, it starts again, I guess. Another menagerie.
This guy, with the comb stuck in his hair and also who pushes a lawn mower, walks around town with two or three dogs on ropes. He walks to the south side and sits in the shade of what used to be a home improvement store but now holds a church youth group. He sits on the steps of the Salvation Army church. He cuts grass here and there, and he has a comb.
Small towns don't have homeless people wandering on the street in the same way that cities do (not to say that small towns don't have homeless people--they just don't wander around the street so that you can say, "look, he must be homeless"). But the guy with the comb in his hair reminds me of the men who stood outside the Lawson Y in Chicago when I was in college, the ones who made me want to cross the street to the other side. I used to think he actually was homeless until I saw where he parks his lawn mower and ties up the dogs. He seems to live in a house on a street I usually only drive on when I want to avoid a series of red lights.
I turned onto this street one afternoon in an attempt to make it home a little faster than if I had gone the usual way. Just as I made the turn, a guy who apparently had a warrant out for his arrest pulled out from a parking spot and clipped the back tire rim of my brand new PT Cruiser. I pulled over expecting to see big damage, but all I got was a rubber smudge from the felon's bumper. What the escaped convict got was a bumper that completely ripped off the back of his sloppy piece of crap car. He sped off with a screech, turned a corner onto an over pass, and left his bumper in the middle of the street.
The guy with the comb in his hair walked around from the back of his house and said that he had been cutting the grass around the corner and saw the whole thing. He pointed out that the bumper was on the overpass and that he would stick around to talk to the police if I wanted. So, the guy with the comb in his hair is very nice--a responsible citizen.
Anyway, he collects these dogs and keeps them tied up in and around the house on the corner. Someone must have reported the situation because the dog warden paid a visit and took a few dogs that were in really bad shape. Before she could come back and get the rest (there were 29 plus a few sick cats), the guy with the comb in his hair let some go. I'm not sure what that means--"let some go"--are there now dogs running loose? She was at least able to get 19 dogs, all of them too emaciated to be saved, and now she has to euthanize them all.
It's a sad case, and too bad for the dogs, but I don't understand where all they all came from in the first place. We don't seem to have packs of them roaming the edges of the village snatching up sheep--although there were two that killed 11 goats the other day on a farm just outside of town. Maybe they were the ones he "let go."
I have no real point with this story, except that I feel bad for the dogs, and I was surprised to see the guy with the comb in his hair just a couple of days ago--he had two dogs on ropes, and he was headed toward the shaded steps of the Salvation Army. So, it starts again, I guess. Another menagerie.
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P.f.