You know what I hate? Waking up to something other than my alarm. Actually, I hate waking up to my alarm, too, but at least that’s under my control. I remember living at home, and my dad waking me up for some reason or another; the rage I felt at being torn from my dreams was unreal. I was a pretty rageful kid.
This morning, around 6:30 am, the dogs started. There’s two of them, and they live next door. They bark and bark and bark, they egg each other on, and if there’s any noise nearby, they bark even louder. Since the dogs hadn’t shut up after five minutes went by this morning, I got up and closed my window. The sound of my window slamming shut set them off even louder, and for 20 minutes I could hear them going at it. Only a couple times did I hear the owner tell them to shut up.
It’s hard not to be angry at the animals, but they’re animals, and they don’t know any better. But why would the owner let the dogs out at 6:30am? And leave them outside, barking their faces off, for half an hour?!? If I was a dog owner, I’d be a bit more considerate of my neighbours. Then again, I’ve never been a dog owner, and I probably won’t ever be one. That’s just the way it is. I do like dogs, just not when they’re barking, slobbering, wagging their tail, or sticking their nose in my crotch.
I do like them, though, I swear. See? Here’s a picture of my brothers dog: