The day was July 17, 2020, a day that I, Buttons Bear, would never forget. Why not, you asked? Well how about you sit down, shut the fuck up, and let your ole friend Buttons B. Bear tell you all about it. It was a normal Friday evening in the middle of a pandemic and I was dating a Bear who clearly thought I was a piece of shit because I enjoyed kicking my paws up on the coffee table after a long week of work and watching a couple episodes of Melrose. But OH NO! Relaxing wasn’t in the cards for Buttons this fine Friday evening. Not this part isn’t want makes this story so memorable, I have been getting nagged and bitched at by the opposite sex for what seems like 2 decades now. Anyhow, somewhere, somehow, the “Book of Things” came into play and Buttons wasn’t getting out of this one easily.
I grabbed the book and I started randomly fanning through pages until, BOOM, I slammed my bear claw down stopping on my next “Thing” I was stuck doing. I looked down and I was thrilled to see only a few words on the page. The sentence said, “Buy a house plant and keep it alive.” THANK FUCK, HALLELUJAH! Easiest shit this Bear ever had to do to end a fight with a female. “Let’s go to Walmart.” she said, knowing full well I fuckin’ HATE going out on a Friday night to Walmart, especially in the city we lived it. Please don’t ask me how we actually ended up at Meijer instead…that part is a mystery to everyone.
Once we get to the store…Ladies, I am an in and out kind of bear and I don’t wanna piss around and look at shit we don’t need. Let’s. Fuckin’. Go. Let’s get the plant, let’s get in line, and let’s get the fuck outta here! Every bear in here knows what I’m talking about and if they don’t, then I hate to tell you ladies, you’re dating a pussy, but you already know that… Back to story Buttons, stay on track! Okay, once we get to the store, right up front, I find this little money tree in a cool looking planter and no more than $7.99. Also, he looked healthy for a plant, well at least to Meijer’s standards. One thing you need to know about Buttons (besides I will talk in third person) is Buttons gives everything a name and that was no different for this money tree which I rightfully named, “Jeffrey.”
We FINALLY fucking leave a get the plant home, I set Jeffrey on the table, and I head outside to have a cigarette. On my way back outside I tell my lady that I am starving and dinner has never been able to cook itself. So my lady gets her ass in the kitchen, exactly where she needs to be, and makes dinner, as well tends to her chores and other womanly duties. (Gender roles gentlemen! That’s how you keep them in check since we aren’t allowed to use our paws anymore.) Once I return back inside the house, I am passed by one of our dogs, we will call him T-Oh.
T-Oh was a West Highland White Terrier, kind of a dud as dogs go, probably would have ranked low in the litter. T-Oh definitely wasn’t the silent type, as to be expected from a terrier, but nevertheless, he was a decent pooch. When T-Oh passed by he had this look in his eyes, a look a dog shoots you when it fucked up. The look of “Oh I KNOW I am getting my ass beat in less than 10 seconds.” If you don’t know this look then you don’t own a dog.
I peek my head into the dining room and that is when I saw it. The scene was a messy one…leaves and limbs everywhere, Jeffrey’s insides were torn out, roots that once kept him firmly planted were ripped completely out. His planter, the only thing left of Jeffrey that stood more than an inch tall, sitting there on top of a soil-soaked cloth table runner. “T-OH NO!” is the only thing I could bring myself to say as I stood there shocked and horrified at the scene in front of me. There was no time for sorrows or tears, there was a beast that needed scolding and Jeffrey wouldn’t have wanted anyone other than me to give that beast his comeuppance.
I quickly searched and found the biggest and thickest piece I could find of Jeffrey’s branches I could find in the destruction and I went looking for vengeance. I found T-Oh hiding in the kitchen, tucked in between my girlfriend and the kitchen cabinets. Now, this is how you know he wasn’t a smart dog…did he seriously think I wouldn’t have hit my girlfriend in order to get to him? Shit, I was looking for a reason son, now you gave me one! I said, “COME HERE!” as loud as I could. My girlfriend turned around quickly and said, “WHAT HAPPENED?” as she sees me wielding a piece of Jeffrey’s limp limb. “THE GODDAMN DOG KILLED JEFFREY!” I responded. She then peeked her head into the dining room to lay witness to the evil unleashed by this hellhound we called a pet. I will leave the rest of that evening's events up to your imagination but if you don’t think I beat T-Oh’s ass till my paw was stinging red, you’re wrong.
That dog paid for his sins that night and I feel no shame for my actions. Nobody, I MEAN NOBODY, should EVER trust a dog. The remaining time I lived in that house, with my lady and that dog, I made sure I slept with my eyes open because I was waiting for the day that dog’s demons awoke and turned their sights towards me. -Buttons Bear