what's in a name?

Just a little background clarification on my title: about a month ago, while I was out running in the park/ghetto/junkyard/nature preserve (ever notice how in this city they always seem to be one & the same?) some nasty little half-stray mangey mutt saw it fitting to sample a bite-sized morsel of my hamstring as I passed through its domain. While the bite appeared rather ghastly and deep (gotta love those massive half-surfaced blood clots and the distinctly shaped carvings in the flesh, like the ever-elusive hole in the middle of the green; so close to victory and yet so far- putt away!) can't say it hurt especially at the time and I quite seriously forget about it for several hours (and miles) after the fact; I merely hope the little mofo found it appetizng. There must've been about 50 (err...6, but who's counting?) old pooches surrounding my feet at the time, so I guess I'll never quite know which was the guilty party. Since then, to minimize the possibility of contracting rabies I've been frequenting the clinic to wait around with embarassing Westerners and pay a killing to get fun little injections in the shoulder every few days/weeks/months just for kicks. That and a technical excuse for being a perpetual tea-tottler. January 22nd, man, January 22nd- only then can I once again partake in the unabashed National Passtime. Ah, well, it's been educational and while I don't feel it, particularly, I suppose it's been a lesson in health as well. So as a result, my liver rests well and I probably won't find myself having highly hydrophobic tendencies and frothing at the mouth in the imminent future, but even without rabies, I still bare the mark of a semi-valid canis lupus in hot pursuit of plights unseemly. All I can say is be very, very glad of two things: that I do not eat meat and that the moon is ner any more visible than the sun in these parts, so even when it's full, I won't know it and I shall not morph into the being that makes your blood freeze and stop dead in its tracks. Grrr...