A potential scenario regarding the horrific crimes that have been committed in the last month

To start off, this is not a confession or an accusation. It's just a possibility.

It wasn't until I was standing under the bus shelter yesterday with the rain pouring down that I realized I recognized the three victims whose photos were on the front of the Post-Intelligencer. Their faces were also on the front of the Times, but that's a crappy paper with numerous spelling errors. Staring at their photos of the victims (on the P-I), I realized that I might know the thing that connected them all together, and that would be my dog and her tennis ball.

The first victim was a guy we had run into at the park. Him, his fat ass, and his dog, Max, whole stole my dog's tennis ball. I know it is ill-mannered to speak of a man who headless body was found jammed halfway through a doggie door, but this guy kept saying, "he's just playing," as Max taunted my dog, let's call her S, with her own tennis ball. For five minutes, S had sat motionless as Max played, motionless except for a slight, violent tic at the end of her tail. I noticed that they had found the guy's head half buried in an undisguised hole, but there was no mention of Max.

The second victim I feel terribly for, he seemed like a very nice guy when we met him. S dropped her tennis ball at his feet and he threw it for her a couple times. But then he did that fake throw thing a couple times and laughed. Now I believe that he was laughing with her, but watching a shadow pass over her face and seeing her expressive Labradorian eyebrows knit together ominously, I don't think S got the joke.

The third victim was a woman who had been playing tennis on the park. S had stood at the chain-link fence and watched a long volley as a stream of drool dripped from her mouth. As I pulled S away by her collar, her eyes never left that ball.

I mean maybe there were signs that something like this could happen when I adopted S three months ago. In a full animal shelter, she had been flanked by two empty cages, and the three pens across from her were vacant as well. That was in addition to the yellow caution tape perimeter. But right in the middle of all that was S, with her tennis ball between her feet and wagging her tail wildly. I just knew I had to adopt her when I saw her do her little happy dance as a shelter worker removed her from her cage with one of those ten-foot poles with a wire lasso on the end. The entire shelter staff had applauded as I took S out the front door. "God save you!" suggested a very nice lady. I'm not a religious person, but I do appreciate when someone tries to send one of their deities to watch my back. I gave her a thumbs-up.

Speaking of fingers, S did bite the top-third of my left index finger off last week, but that was a misunderstanding that I chalk up to natural canine instinct. Clearly, S was protecting her poop from me picking it up in a baggie. Either that, or she thought I was going to steal her tail.

Anyway, if (And that's a big IF!) my dog is responsible for these crimes I would not say she is necessarily what some would call a "bad dog." Misdirected? Yes. Evil? No. I mean, would an evil dog be house trained?

I will, of course, put a stop to all of this if S is responsible. The problem with dogs is that they only have something like two minutes of memory, so I'm sure if S killed these people she forgot it almost immediately. With dogs it's important to let them know they are doing something wrong the moment that they are doing something wrong. So, if I catch her killing somebody, I will discipline her. Just in case, I've started carrying a rolled up newspaper around with me on walks. If S goes for a jugular, I will respond with a firm thwack to her ass. That and a firm "NO!" Of that, I promise you.

Until that possibility happens and I have my doubts it will, I've suggested strongly that my housemate not wear his lime green sweater.


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