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 ...

When an ass is so much more

  Body image. Body positivity.  Or about coming to an appreciation for a previously much maligned back end.  In junior high (that's middle school for all of you non boomers), I was given the nickname "big butt Bowen". It was a nickname that stung because I did indeed have a large ass. I tried to mask it, a difficult endeavor since the current fashion (and remember this is junior high when fitting in was paramount) was wearing hip hugger jeans with midriff tops and my disguise of choice were peasant blouses or dresses. That style choice earned an additional nickname, Mama Cass. For those of you that don't know who Mama Cass was, she was part of the Mamas and Papas and known for her beautiful voice but also for her large body.  All about Mama Cass I was cruelly nicknamed at a time when nicknames can really mess with a girl's psyche. And I spent a lifetime as that girl with the messed up psyche. I'm sure there are more than one of you out there that can relate. B

Peter Pan no more

                          It's time. Peter Pan had to grow up.  For nearly 18 months of his life, Matthew dressed in this costume. In this picture it's new, just out of the box. He picked the costume out of a catalog and when it arrived, two weeks prior to Halloween, he asked daily if today was the day he could finally wear his Peter Pan costume. He didn't like the hat and only wore it on Halloween, but the rest of the costume he wore daily! You read that correctly - DAILY. He wore it to Meijer (for those of you unfamiliar with Meijer, it's a cleaner, friendlier, more 'upscale' version of WalMart), to church, to play dates and preschool ... Heck, he was three and adorable and it worked for him!  (Yes you read that correctly, he even wore it to church on one or two occasions when it seemed arguing with a three year old about not wearing a costume to church was not a battle worth waging. He once mentioned the priests wore dresses . . . I don't think Joh

Cabin fever made me do it!

Like nearly ever person in West Michigan, I have a serious case of cabin fever.  I won't waste your time however, complaining about the two-hundred feet of snow that's fallen in the last two hours. I won't share about the twenty or thirty times I've had to shovel my walk today as gusts blew it right back in my face. And I certainly will not lament about the temperatures that hover around negative double digits making your nostrils freeze together within moments of stepping outside. To bore you with tales of how we have to shovel areas in our yard so that our large dog and can do his 'duty' because the snow is deeper than he is tall and dogs for whatever reason cannot poop in the same place twice, is not what I will share. You will not hear about how when I open the slider to let aforementioned dog outside, gusts of wind blow drifts of snow inside and require a shovel to once again close the door.  Nor will I share how some roads around here are drifted shut be