What's Latin For Batshit

Pat stopped our Latin lesson in order to show me the rifle he was going to shoot a dog with. He took the rifle out of his bedroom closet, unzipped the camo case, and modeled it for me.

"It's lightweight and has good sighting," he said, aiming the barrel at the window.

"But," I said, not knowing where to begin exactly. "You'll... uh... do this at night?" An image flashed of Pat in night-vision goggles, face daubed in black paint, crouching in a bush with his rifle and waiting for the neighbor's dog to appear.

"No. I can do it in the day. I'm fully within my rights as a property owner. That dog is depreciating the value of my property. It's a vicious animal. And this is the best way to get rid of it. I have a shotgun, too." He unzipped his shotgun and showed it to me. "This will work well, too. What do you think? Should I use the rifle or the shotgun?"

"Uh."

The week before Pat had heard a lady scream in the alley. He ran out to find a large Rottweiler chewing down on a small dog--with the owner of the small dog standing by in shock, screaming for help. Pat leaped in, using his judo skills to put a naked arm bar hold on the Rottweiler. The little dog finally dropped out of the Rottweiler's mouth, already not moving and covered in blood, and now the Rottweiler was jerking around to bite at Pat. The two of them rolled around like two alligators in a swamp filled with gladiator entrails. Pat complained he couldn't get a good hold on the Rottweiler since its neck was huge, it had no collar and the skin was so loose. He had to use all of his blue belt skills to get the dog immobilized. The owner ran out finally and got the Rottweiler back inside its fence. The little dog was dead.

"It's why I can't bring Reuben here anymore."

Normally when I visit Pat at his house, Reuben jumps all over me. A hyper Australian shepherd, the dog makes doing declensions a challenge.

"You see that fence? The boards are coming loose down below. That fucking dog just prowls back and forth all day, waiting to get out. If Reuben was here, that dog would surely get loose and come for him. It's not safe for Rube."

"Did you complain to the owner?"

"These are the people who sprayed something through my screen window and killed my bird. Remember? So, nah, I can't talk to them. I'm going to have to take care of this myself." He made a shotgun cocking noise with his mouth.

We went back to the kitchen where our Latin books were open.

"I can't have people renting this house with a vicious dog next door ready to attack at any moment."

"Unless you get Beowulf," I said.

"I have these six MMA fighters who want to stay here while they train for a tournament. I'm going to rent out the house to them while I go to California and surf. But there are some things that have to get finished in here. Let me show you something..."

We got up again and Pat showed me the hall closet.

"This is where they can masturbate, if they need to."

"Mas... tur... bate?"

"Yeah. Do you think it's big enough in here? Because these are young guys. They're going to need a place to beat off in."

"Yes, that could be a selling point. I wouldn't put it in the ad, though."

We went back to our Latin books. Pat stared at the lesson for a moment, and then said,

"Do women really ejaculate? I mean, spray out all this stuff?"

"Uh."

"I mean, I've been watching some porn and it's so terrible. Do people really do that stuff, Gregory?"

"Well, a lot of porn is fairly extreme. It's to get attention. But anyway..."

"When I get my penis I wonder if I'll spray cum like a nozzle on a hose."

"What?"

"Because if a woman can ejaculate like that, then imagine when they put a penis on me. It should be really amazing. But do people do that, is it normal? I don't think I can ejaculate like that. I don't have fallopian tubes anyway. Is it prostatic juice that comes out? What is it?"

"Um, it's not prostate juice, no. But..."

"I didn't get my dog ears taken out, by the way. You see?" He took off his shirt. "The fat tissue is still around my armpits here. If I go to Japan for this tournament and my gi falls open they'll see I still have some breasts and they'll rape me. I also can't tell anyone that Sam was my jiu-jitsu teacher since he has a reputation for having sex with women in the bathroom, so as soon as anyone finds out in California that I was a student of Sam's they'll expect me to suck their cock."

A dog was barking.

"Shit! That's the Rottweiler!"

Pat ran to his bedroom and came out with his rifle. The screen door banged. I remained at the kitchen table, trying very hard to focus on semi-deponent verbs. A few minutes later Pat came back, out of breath.

"False alarm," he said.

"So let's look at this passage here. And..."

"Oh, it's late. Sorry I was talking this whole time!"

"That's okay," I said.

Pat put away his rifle, and I put away my books. We promised to do it again next week. What "it" was was not clear, however.

(This post was dedicated to Andy. ENJOY!!!)