The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Daytime....

There is a dead dog in a box lying in my living room.

There. I've said it. That opening sentence is one of those sentences you never quite imagine yourself saying in your lifetime , unless you are a psychotic dog-killer or something,of course.
To say the least,it is weird. Perhaps not as weird as "I'm hanging from a helicopter flying over the CN Tower,about to be impaled on it" or " I've just been captured by aliens who chose me because they liked my hair" but of the same order,methinks.
Anyway, one thing I should point out-as many of you doubtless suspect by now, this is not the essay I was going on and on about in my last blog.
I suppose I should explain the dead dog in my living room now. It is a fascinating and painful(for the dog) tale, my friends, so sit back and listen.
My involvement in this tale began yesterday when my roommate told me that a package is going to come for him and if I were at home when it came, would I be kind enough to accept it.
I acquiesced, displaying yet another instance of my much talked about benevolence. So far,so good.
Unfortunately, the next thing I did was to go to my room and start listening to Iron Maiden songs at full blast. After a couple of hours, I get a message on Gtalk from my roommate.
It goes something like this-
Irate roommate: Where are you?
Apprehensive me: Home
Irate roommate: Since when?
Apprehensive me: Since you left
Irate roommate: Where were you at 5:50?
Apprehensive me: Right here
Irate roommate: This online tracking shows that the UPS fellow came to our apartment at 5:50 and no one opened the door. You stay at home and you still can't accept my package.

Well, I don't think there is any point in telling you the rest of the conversation, which mostly consisted of me sitting and listening(or rather reading) to my roommate ranting with a rather patronizing smile on my face, like a grown-up watching a child throwing tantrums.( I sincerely hope that along with my advisor, my roommate doesn't read this blog either)

By the way,it now occurs to me that all this is rather irrelevant to the story of the dead dog.
So I will now fast forward to the time when I meet that late furried friend of mine.

I came back home today to see a box lying in my living room. No one was at home, but from the fact that it had my roommate's name on it, I deduced in my usual Sherlock-like manner that this was the box my roommate was waiting for. My roommate came in a few hours later and I just generally asked him what was in the box. He told me that it was a gift for his drinking buddy. I said okay and lost interest. Some time later I wandered back into the room to pick up something and just out of curiosity I asked him what he was gifting his drinking buddy anyway.
He said he was gifting him a dog. I asked him if he was gifting him a dog, then where was the dog and what was inside the box? He said that the dog was inside the box.
As you can imagine, I was thoroughly puzzled by this time. I asked my roommate whether it was a toy dog or something. He said no, it is a real dog. As puzzled as I was before, I was even more puzzled now. Now, I know that there are some extremely well-behaved dogs that can sit for hours without barking but I still had trouble believing that there existed in the world a dog placid enough to sit inside a (presumably) dark box for hours without so much as a yelp. I also was very doubtful that you could UPS a dog.
So, the subsequent conversation was like this-

Puzzled Me(pointing at the box): You are telling me there is a dog in there?
Composed Roommate: Yes

Brief Silence.

Puzzled Me: Why is it so quiet?
Composed Roommate: Because it is dead.

Brief Silence

Bewildered me: You are telling me that there is a dead dog in there?
Composed Roommate: Yes
Bewildered Me: And you are giving that as a birthday gift to your drinking buddy?
Composed Roommate: Yes
(As you have probably gathered by now, my roommate doesn't readily volunteer information)

A Really Long Silence.

Extremely Bewildered Me: Why?
Composed Roommate: Why what?
Extremely Bewildered Me: Why are you giving your drinking buddy a dead dog?
Composed Roommate: Because he likes it.
Extremely Bewildered Me: Why?
Composed Roommate: Because he likes this dead dog in this TV series "Scrubs", so we got him a dead dog of the same breed.
Extremely Bewildered Me: And what will he do with it?
Composed Roommate: We are making a can-opener out of it, like it is in "Scrubs"

At this point, I didn't have anything to say. And no, I did NOT ask my roommate how he intended to convert a dead dog into a can-opener. Knowing him, he would probably have given me a detailed description, which I did not want,having just had something to eat. I just made a mental note to not ever eat at his drinking buddy's house(in case I am invited,of course).

Well,that's that. After this incident, I thought that the first thing I must do is tell someone and therefore rushed to write this blog.
By the way, I would like to clarify to everybody, in case there is someone reading this blog who has the gift-choosing taste of my roommate. I would NOT like a dead dog(or any other animal, for that matter) for my birthday. I would rather you give me cash.

That's about it guys. My next blog should hopefully be what I planned earlier and not about deceased souls.

Epilogue-The box and its contents are now out of my house and on their way to the intended recipient. I hope my roommate's buddy and the dog lead a happy life(well, in the case of the dog,afterlife) together. My best wishes are with them.

P.S.-This is a weird country with weird people.