Thursday, April 10, 2008

34. Fish Head

My doggie does not like ooky meats.

I've been feeding Frank an all raw diet for two weeks now, with a lot of success. This morning’s breakfast however, consisted of a raw catfish head and a piece of piggie kidney. I had given him a fish head over a week ago which he ate, but grudgingly. I assumed that he would eventually eat this as well, given enough time. But he just sniffed both and walked away.

I threw away the kidney (in the dumpster outside) and put the fish head in his crate in the hopes he would eat it on the way to work. Not only did he refuse to eat it, Frank spent the entire ride to work arranging his crate so that he could sit as far from it as possible.

Because I was seriously concerned I would return to a car which stunk of fish this afternoon, I decided the best course of action would be to dispose of the head. The car ride had been relatively quiet for several minutes, until I imagined myself tossing the fish in the trash can near the entrance to my work. Picturing the look on people’s faces as they passed by, being hit by the smell of now warm fish head, or possibly being attacked by the seagulls attempting to retrieve said fish from the garbage was too much for me.

I laughed out loud. Maniacally.

When I explained to Soren why I was laughing, he suggested I should do something better with it. Like throw it in the bank parking lot across the street from my work. We have a sort of long harbored vendetta against the employees of said bank. They once screamed at me because Frank decided to poop on the grass at the edge of their property. They were especially furious when I then used their dumpster to dispose of the poo, and accused us of trespassing.

Tossing a fish head in their lot to attract the gulls from the recycling center down the street seemed like the perfect revenge.

So I did.

I wrapped the head in a small sandwich bag I found under my car seat, so I wouldn’t have to touch it. As we passed by the bank lot, I threw it, sort of squeezing the bag at the same time, so that the head leapt from my hand like a slippery bar of soap and went skittering across the bank lot. It landed with the most satisfyingly wet plop of meat on pavement I could have ever asked for.

Then we ran away laughing.
The end!


Janieac said...

Most ehhhhhhhhhhhxcellent.

Poor Frank though. Fish head ... just. Ew.

Dexter Obvious said...

Yeah...not buying those again. I can't really blame him for not wanting any.

Françoise de Fleur said...

Fish heads, fish heads,
roly poly fish heads.
Fish heads, fish heads,
eat them up, yum.

In the morning
laughing, happy fish heads.
In the evening
floating in the soup

Ask a fish head
anything you want to,
they won't answer
they can't talk.

I took a fish head
out to see a movie,
didn't have to pay
to get it in.

They can't play baseball,
they don't wear sweaters.
They're not good dancers,
they don't play drums.

Fish heads, fish heads,
roly poly fish heads.
Fish heads, fish heads,
eat them up, yum.

Roly poly fish heads
are never seen drinking
cappuccino in Italian restaurants
with Oriental women... Yeah.

Fish heads, fish heads,
roly poly fish heads.
Fish heads, fish heads,
eat them up, yum.

Dexter Obvious said...

That song is excellent.

Bill Doctorman Photography said...

have you tried whole fish with frank yet? I wonder if it is just an issue with the head or if it's fish all together. Hopefully Sam doesn't have an aversion to fish, as meat is otherwise expensive in alaska. a whole chicken (which lasts me 2 - 3 days) costs almost eight dollars. going fishing in the river is free.