Yakkity Yak, Don't Talk Back

It's no secret that I have some messed up dreams every now and then, and for the most part I remember them vividly. Last night was no exception.

It started out innocently enough, as I was riding my BMX bike down 47th St., a 4-lane thoroughfare in LaGrange (my hometown, outisde Chicago). Accompanying me were three women, only one of which I recognized. She was that skateboarding chick Sarah from the Miami Real World (who I just discovered is an IU grad--nice), although she held herself out to be a member of the enormous Turek family that lived about a block from me growing up and I think had about 24 kids in it. While riding our bikes, we made some small talk, and finally figured out that we had grown up a block from each other and that we went to the same church growing up.

Then it started getting weird. All four of us decided to hit the gym, so we went to Lyons Township High School's North Campus fieldhouse, which had apparently been moved to Waiola Park, about 5 blocks from its location for the past 100+ years. Inside the gym, we were for some reason completely unsurprised to see none other than the National Geographic Channel's Dog Whisperer, Cesar Milan, who was conducting a dog obedience class for about 20 dogs and their owners, who were lined up in 2 rows of 10 facing each other.

The four of us flocked to a bench against the wall to watch Cesar work his magic. Cesar had a dog in hand, with collar/muzzle that he felt was effective in preventing dogs from jumping on strangers. In addition to the many tips he had for keeping one's dog in line, Cesar had two enforcers in case any of the dogs tried to run away. One of them was a gigantic talking black and gray yak with red eyes and huge antlers. If a dog tried to run around, this surprisingly agile yak would come barreling toward the dog and try his best to headbutt the dog. The best part is that he talked like Red Foxx. After one particular headbutting (after which the dazed and defeated dog returned to its place in line), the yak came over the bench where the four of us were sitting and said something that I'll never forget. With a smile on his face, he looked at us and said, "yak gonna get ya," and then he started laughing in a way that made me think that very few dogs ever escaped when he was around.

But just in case a giant talking yak wasn't enough to corral disobedient dogs, Cesar had also enlisted the help of a fairly large buck with very large antlers himself. Unfortunately, I didn't have a chance to catch his name, but I assume it was Lamont. Then I'll be damned if I didn't wake up before finding out if Cesar was able to make all those dogs obedient. Maybe tonight.