My Worst Dog Story -- Sunday, April 09, 2006

Well blarney! I started writing about grapefruit sale week, when suddenly my window reverted back to blogger dashboard, and my story got lost. Somehow, though, my pre-story introduction got published (??). That's frustrating. I was talking about having the jitters from a six day (now seven) pineapple juice cleansing fast. And then I delved into my story, which, as I said, got lost.

Well, at least the Muses have returned. So while I'm cooking up my (maybe long) story, I'll throw in a short: _____________________________
We all have one, but can you top this?


My Worst Dog Story

My husband and I were sick of the dog, a five month-old beagle. The night before, Bam Bam kept opening our bedroom door (it won't shut completely) and bothering us. If we brace the door shut to keep him out, he'll whine and paw the door until he barrels through. The door swings shut by itself, so he can't get back outside once inside. He'll be stuck inside our room for the night tearing up things and jumping on us and keeping us awake.

First, he licked my husband's feet that dangled over the recliner he's slept in ever since his open-heart surgery. We'd moved it into the bedroom for privacy since we have guests, and there I cream his feet every night. But Bam Bam kept licking the cream off as fast as I'd put it on.

"Oh--get that dog out of here," my husband fussed. "If you knew how I can't stand animals licking me, especially my feet! Put him downstairs in his cage."
"We don't have to get rid of him. We can just hit him and make him quit."
"Sugar, I don't like to see animals get hit all the time. It's not right." Lately I had taken to swatting him a lot.
"He'll stop. You'll see."

I put my husband's socks on quickly, and that ended the licking. Next, I sat on the floor beside the recliner and lowered my head onto my husband's chest. But Bam Bam wanted attention, too, and squeezed between the recliner and me.

"Is that the dog moving the recliner?! Ohhhhh, if you knew how I don't like this shaking while I'm falling asleep! Sugar, I want to sleep! Put him out!"
"He won't do it anymore." I pushed him away. He squeezed in again. And I swatted him and again pushed him away.

Next Bam Bam started playing with various objects in the bedroom. He began digging in the mulch of the potted ficus tree.

"Sugar, what is he doing? Is he tearing something up? Sugar--!"
"Okay, I'll put him downstairs. But he'll cry, and then we won't be able to sleep."
"All right, but keep the door open so he can go in and out."
"But you don't like the door open. You like your privacy."

The recliner sits facing the doorway, and the living room lights would shine in his face, making it hard for him to sleep. And our guests would see him sleeping (and maybe snoring) when they came in at 4:00 a.m. from working the night shift.

"We can put him in the living room and just hit him when he tries to come in here. He has to be trained."
"Sugar, it'll be okay. Just leave the door open." Wow, what a trooper--and he doesn't even like animals in the house.

Bam Bam started finding other things in the bedroom to chew on and tear up (the garbage, the bedposts), and so I took off his collar with all its tags so that its constant jangling wouldn't alert my husband to more mischief and upset him so much that he couldn't sleep.

And so the saga continued and repeated itself throughout the next day, until we grew thoroughly sick of our charge.

Now nobody had specifically asked us to look after Bam Bam. We just happened to be home a lot, and they (his owners--my son and his friend, who are staying with us) just happened to be gone a lot, so we just happened to get stuck with him a lot.

The next night, my husband sat on the couch working, with his office paperwork at one side of him and his company laptop computer on his lap. I sat on the love seat with papers at my side also and another company laptop on my lap. First Bam Bam jumped onto the couch, landed on my husband's papers, and then jumped onto my husband's stomach and computer.

"Bam Bam--NO!" My husband pushed him from the couch. So Bam Bam repeated his caper on me.
"Get off!" I screamed and shoved him to the floor, too.

I decided to curl up on the love seat and catch a wink. I set my papers and laptop on the sofa table and lay down on my side. Bam Bam jumped onto the love seat and buried my nose in his furry ribcage.

"Noooooooo!" I sputtered as I tried to dig my hands from beneath me to throw the dog off me. Meanwhile, he moved further in the direction of my feet, vying for better footing, and planted his bottom squarely and firmly on my face.

My husband called to him, trying to get him off me. Instead, Bam Bam, with his hiney still smothering my face, began to wag his tail, scraping his rear end back and forth across my face.

Finally freeing my hands, gagging, I hurled him from the couch. And wanting only to vent my frustration and rage on this disgusting creature that had so disrupted my life, instead my husband and I contorted in raucous laughter.

So I ask you again: Have you ever had a more disgusting experience than having your face wiped with a dog's hiney?
__________________________________________
My only hope is that maybe some one from the SPCA will read this and come and forcibly remove the dog from my home.

posted by Susie Hovendick Chan