Skip to main content

Hound dogs and nighties

We have a dog treat jar that was given to us 12 years ago by my sister Kerri. When you open it it plays a part of one of two songs, "Who Let the Dogs Out" or "You Ain't Nothin' But a Hound Dog". It doesn't play them anymore - I think the batteries of run out and I'm not inclined to replace them. Wonder why? Anyway, the song Hound Dog was on mind last night when Wally, for the first time ever, caught a rabbit. 

He ain't no friend of mine. He said he was high class. Well, that was just a lie.




The back story is that we got home after a night of theatre and friends in Grand Rapids. (Saw Phantom of the Opera - fabulous staging/set/choreography. Memories of Delaney as Christine!) After six hours in his kennel, we knew Wally would be ready to be set free. And he was - much to the chagrin of the rabbits in the backyard who didn't see him coming. He grabbed at some animal, it yelped and Wally dropped it. He looked at me on the deck, seemingly unsure of what he'd done. I knew it couldn't be good but I wasn't sure what it was. We had a mole problem a few years ago, and our previous pup, Sandy was known for finding them. So I called to John while Wally nosed the animal. I think he wanted to play but it wasn't playing. We got him inside with a lot of prompting and pulling and pushing. John got a shovel to dispose of the now deceased dead bunny.

But Wally wasn't done - he wanted to go back out. We let him out one more and he sniffed all over the back yard - we had to call him, several times before he came in reluctantly. Again with a lot of prompting, pulling and pushing.

While trying to go to sleep, I heard him whimpering. I shushed him and prayed he'd give it up and go to sleep. Thirty minutes later, I heard him again and wheeled out in my nightie to let him outside. I let him sniff around for about 15 minutes, hoping in that time he'd be satisfied that the bunny-plaything was gone. Plus, it was now 1 a.m. and I was beyond ready for sleep.

He wasn't going to make it easy because Wally had wrapped himself around a tree. And no amount of verbal prompting was going to get him free and, more importantly, me in bed. 

Did I mention that it was after 1 and I was in my nightie? And I didn't want to wake John because well, there was no use both of us being awake. And did I mention that I had the back flood lights on so I could see Wally? Did I mention that I was in my nightie? Or that the nightie was white?

I couldn't turn off the lights or I wouldn't be able to see and without suitable covering nearby, I crouched down and crept down the deck stairs. While sitting on the bottom step, under the glare of floodlights and in my white nightie for all the world to see, I yanked on Wally's chain to pull him free. And that little bugger once free started to wander away. Now furious under the glare of floodlights in my white nightie for all the world to see, I growled under my breath (because I didn't want to yell garnering even more attention to the spectacle that was me glowing under the lights in a white nightie) at the damn dog. 

Once not-so-wonderful Wally was back in his kennel, I tried to sleep but my mind was racing and likely my blood was boiling. I heard the clock chime two and I knew I wasn't going to be going to the 8:30 church service. I prayed God would understand and that was the last thing I remembered. 

So, it's now 10 a.m. and I'm still in the white nightie sipping coffee and composing this post. And that 'damn dog', that 90 lb lap dog is laying by my side oblivious. 

He's a hound dog for sure ( a lab/bloodhound mix). And he's a friend of mine.

Comments

It's not a popularity contest, but ...

Ten Year

When I was in junior high school, I staged a sit-in and learned about 'ten year'. This will come as a total surprise to most of you readers - I was not a perfectly well behaved child. I know, I know - you're shocked, amazed, in wonder how I could have turned out to be so well-behaved despite the oats sown in my youth.  And the sit-in is a perfect example of how I marched to the beat of my own drummer. Miss Brown was an English teacher - and not a very popular one. She would invoke the yardstick on wayward student's hands and scowl the moment we walked into the classroom. We weren't very kind to Miss Brown but then she wasn't very kind to us, either. Personally, the hardest part of having Miss Brown as an English teacher is that she nearly ruined my love of my favorite topic in school. It was the year we were to learn grammar (have I ever mentioned that as a writer I detest grammar?). I think some new way of teaching English was introduced and in all l...

Blubbering Idiot

While doing crunches this morning, I turned on the TV to keep my mind off the exercise I was about to do and the movie "Gran Torino" was playing. It was nearly 3/4 of the way done. Perfect, I thought, I can watch the end of one of my newest favorite movies. Fifteen minutes later, I'm a puddle of tears on the floor. The end of that movie dissolves me to tears every time - and I think I've seen it now about six or seven times. When Clint Eastwood's character goes about his last day - including a lame confession with the priest - locking 'Toad' in the basement, I begin to get weepy. SCENE SPOILER ALERT ! But when he is shot down and is splayed as though crucified on the cross, I become a blubbering idiot. So much softness and sacrifice in one so tough and gruff - it highlights the intensity of his sacrifice for his new family next door. I only need watch the last few minutes of "Gran Torino" to get the full emotional effect. The same can be said...

Hair today gone tomorrow

Before you all begin to think I’m breezing completely through chemo, let me remind you of this:   For the most part I am bald. Or if not completely bald, fuzzy headed, and not in the way I think or am thinking, but in the appearance. A little like a hedgehog or a porcupine with bald patches. On Super Bowl Sunday while most of you were overeating or filling out those little squares to wager on the upcoming game, John and I were having a unique pre-game party. In front of our bathroom mirror with clippers and scissors. Preparing for the certainty of hair loss from my chemo, I decided to buzz my locks to lessen the shock and mess of of losing large chunks of my silver, shoulder-length hair. It was in all honesty one of the most poignant moments in our 30+  year marriage. I had originally asked my friend and former stylist if she could do it . But when I shared my plan with John, he said that he wanted to do it. Certainly that was not expected. So instead of watching th...