Thursday
Nov082012
Don't Play Metal For Your Dog
Thursday, November 8, 2012 at 12:01AM Apparently dogs love classical music.
A new study out of Colorado State University finds that music from Mozart and other classical masters may reduce stress in dogs. The study was published in the Journal of Veterinary Behavior. I don't have a dog so I don't know too much about this, but apparently companies exist for the sole purpose to make pet CDs! But wait! The study also says that heavy metal music may cause anxiety and unrest in your four legged friends. You know what this means? No Black Sabbath for Fido!
Because YouTube makes the world go 'round, there's actually video evidence that this study is probably very true. Thus concludes your epic randomness news for Thursday.
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The names have not been changed to not protect the guilty.
When I was a kid my parents bought me an English Springer Spaniel puppy I named Milly when we lived in Old Greenwich, Connecticut. I had this crap record player I used to set up on the floor of my living room to play my Beatles, Stones, Monkees, Herman's Hermits and Paul Revere & The Raiders 45's.
I used to jump around like The Fifth Monkee crashing the opening title sequence of the popular TV show and Milly used to join right in. As time wore on my tastes got heavier. My neighbor's older brother let me borrow his Led Zeppelin and Deep Purple albums.
One day after school, I cranked up "Machine Head" for another round of "Smoke On The Water" for the requisite ritual 10 times. "Cranked up" is a funny term to use for what I was trying to get out of that beat up ol' record player. I was familiar with "Smoke", hearing it everyday in the afternoon carpool back home.
I even grabbed my Wilson T2000 Tennis Racquet to use as my axe for my ritual performance. Milly would always get all riled up, jumpin' all over me while I would jump up and off the couch and run around the room like some sort of derranged early Angus permutation.
Milly would get particularly out of control during my vaguely similar Rickie Blackmore impersonations of his guitar solos. When "Smoke" would end I would pause to scurry over to my record player to reque the LP, starting the whole ritualistic death dance all over again.
Milly was my shadow my whole life and the scene I am describing was no different except for that moment when Milly decided she couldn't take it anymore. She would get really crazy with me and figured out the sound emanated from my goofball record player.
After I qued up the record yet one more time, Milly decided she had simply had enough, ran over to the record player and swiped her paw across the record, slapping away the tone arm off the record...
Vvvvvvuuuuuuuhhhhhhtttttttt!!!!
Ugh, I think I experienced my first chronic buzz kill at that exact moment. I ran over to the seen of the crime only to encounter Milly standing there staring up at me, her tongue dangling out of the side of her mouth with an expression not entirely unlike my own at that time.
I looked at Milly, seething. Milly looked at me, eyes locked on mine. I looked at the record player and then looked back at her. And then proceeded to double over in uncontrollable laughter at the whole unbelievable scene.
Milly lived through Hendrix, Zeppelin, Sabbath, Purple, Jeff Beck, Aerosmith, Nugent, Blue Oyster Cult, The Sex Pistols, The Ramones, Generation X, 999, Saxon, Def Leppard and many more.
Only, from that moment on, unfortunately for her but fortunately for me, she couldn't do a damn thing about it. Why? Because I finally got a real stereo and it was simply off limits to everyone in the household without exceptions.
Especially, Milly, who simply could not scale the fieldstone wall to get to it's perch atop the mantle. However, I never took my eyes off of her again because I was always half expecting her to show up with mountain climbing equipment.
After that last stunt, I wouldn't put anything past her.