Lamont Diaries continued:
June 11, 2012
Lamont Defends the Homeland from the Enemy
Yesterday Lamont met his uncle Buddy.
Buddy, now 13, is a dog world-wise, very tolerant fellow who can spot a brash whippersnapper when he sees one. Buddy was an incorrigible bad boy himself, running with a bad crowd and wantonly violating laws in his youth, such as the dreaded Leash Law. He refused the constraints of monogamous ownership and, captured one-to-many times by the Dog Police, was imprisoned without charge or hearing and sentenced to death a decade ago.
Buddy was on death row in a dog pound in rural, Maryland when a Hail Mary appeal was made in his case at an obscure Alcoholics Anonymous meeting in a church basement on the eve of his execution , and he was granted a midnight clemency. So that kind of bad boy running with that kind of crowd.
So Buddy was not impressed with Lamont's juvenile hubris and posing when he came over for a visit.
Lamont was polite enough until Buddy was invited into the house.
First, Lamont sat on the first step of the stairway, staring sideways at the wall, refusing to budge to let Buddy upstairs. When admonished to display some manners, Lamont moved half way up the stairs and sat, staring petulantly again at the other wall.
When lightly wacked, he retreated to his final outpost, the inner defence perimeter to thwart enemy infiltration, well past the concertina wire and bunkers, the last line between Lamont and his couch and food bowl: the top of the stairs.
He crouched on all fours and gave his best, ridiculous impression of Rambo, all 8 inches tall and 5 pounds of him defending the integrity of the motherland from being raped and pillaged by this beastly agent of the enemy hordes. He sneered and twitched and growled facing the enemy in a one dog last stand.
This position was presently overrun by my foot, which blew Lamont gently through the air and back onto the rug in the middle of the room, opening a cleared path to the heart of his AO.
Buddy, Lamont's very tolerant uncle
Lamont didn't surrender without protest.
First he strutted, feigning confidence and nonchalance.
Then he attempted the woe is me sympathy shtick and pouted in the corner.
Then he wrapped his body around his food bowl and pretended to be preoccupied while darting the evil eye at me petting Buddy.
He then picked up the bowl of water I poured for Buddy and dumped it on the rug.
When Buddy took a tour of the house, Lamont blocked the doorway into the bedroom, refusing to move to prevent Buddy from entering.
Buddy, being the consummate gentleman, ignored the brash young Lamont until, with Buddy lying at the foot of the couch by my feet, Lamont attempted to use Buddy as a stepping stone to access the couch.
With the young Lamont standing on Buddy's back, Buddy roared and rose, tossing the cocky young fur ball in the air and somersaulting onto his back.
Lamont, smartly, hoisted the white flag and, embarrassed, shuffled over and gave Buddy a smooch, which his wiser elder accepted graciously.
All was smooth afterwards. ■