Tension hovers in the air, blanketing the room like a thick fog covers a dewy meadow in the Omak morning mist. One look into the deep, brown eyes of 7-year old chocolate lab mix Jake, and you can almost feel the animosity, the regret, the years of pent-up frustration, and the deep-seated love and hate that only a dog and his owner can know.
His pet log coddled lovingly in his lap (a place once reserved for Jake), owner Fred Metzenberger doesn’t hesitate to heap praise upon his new companion. “Let me tell you something about this log,” said Metzenberger. You know how many times it has run away? Let me go ahead and answer that for you, smart guy……zeeeee-ro. It hasn’t once shit in my house, pissed on my leg, eaten my garbage, or puked on my hardwoods. Aside from the occasional splinter and being a little too pointy on the corners, ‘old loggy’ has been the ideal pet.”
Not surprisingly, Jake hasn’t been all too pleased with his demotion to #2. “One fucking time did I ever shit in the house. I was 2 months old. He acts like it happened yesterday. He puts water in my Purina for 7 fucking years and calls it ‘gravy,’ like I’m some kind of retard. I know what water is…it’s in the bowl next to my food! It’s not like if I tipped over my water dish and it spilled into my food, I’d be like, ‘oh look at me everyone, I just made gravy! Yum! Somebody get me a turkey to put this shit on!’ And do I say anything? Do I go off and promote my tennis ball to #1 owner, holding it in my lap like it’s some sort of genius?”