my dad, descendant of noah

so i always thought that God, with his notorious sense of humor, would choose someone like my dad to be the next noah.

my dad loves animals. so he says.

animals DO love my dad.

we had a dog, growing up. she was a mutt, a hyperactive but friendly mutt. we named her after the wizard in the Black Cauldron series, Dallben.

every day my dad came home from work. every day Dallben would stand with her front paws on the windowsill, nose on the glass, until dad got out of the car. then she would run to the door, staring at it until it opened. immediately she would leap with joy into the air, again and again. my dad always had the same, slightly annoyed look on his face, holding his briefcase out of reach. he would try to get around her without being jumped upon, then give up and say, "Dallben, dammit, GET DOWN!" at this point the floodgates would open, and Dallben's mixed excitement and fear inevitably took the form of a yellow puddle on the dining room floor. this daily occurance did not add to my dad's enjoyment of the situation or of the pet.

we had a few cats as well. they tended to have a disagreement or two, in the wee hours, with our neighbors cats. regularly we awoke to loud MEEEEOOOWWWing, the dog barking, then my parents yelling. my dad has been known to take the role of "peacemaker" in these difficult situations. more specifically, my dad was spotted in his bathrobe and slippers at 2am, cursing and chasing the neighbor cat down the driveway, while swinging a child's twirling baton.

my solution to the overpopulation of stray dogs in guatemala: volunteer veterinarians, and spay/neuter clinics.
my dad's solution, i quote: "A rifle and a night scope."

my dad loves animals. so he says.

he would do well on a boatfull of animals. for 40 days. but the 40 nights would get to him.