Wonder where we’ve been? Us, too! The rumors of our break up have rivaled those of the Beatles, and I’m here to assure you, all is well! Sort of. Okay, the truth? I think Wendy’s a bit miffed with me. It all started about a month ago when she let me have a little peek at her work in progress. I read it. I wasn’t bowled over. I may have been a tad snarky with some of my comments. Perhaps the Zzzzz’s indicating the places where I’d drifted off to sleep weren’t exactly…helpful. Or…polite. Wendy laughingly referred to my remarks as passive aggression.
So, when she had to leave town and wanted to drop her little dog at my house, I thought, sure! I’m a dog lover. Bring it on. For years I’ve looked after her big dog, Autumn, whenever they are on vacation. Wonderful animal. Love her. Don’t really want to give her back when Wendy comes home.
How shall I describe Wendy’s new doggie? The term Parana comes to mind, but that’s not really fair to the poor, sweet fish. Wendy arrived, docile pile of poodle in hand, and she, all smiles, assured me that, “Oh, noooo! Your comments were really helpful! Wonderful! Insightful!” Yeah. Right. I should have known something was afoot. Before she drove away, she gave us a few minor warnings about this newest member of her family, “He tends to be a tad grumpy sometimes…Oh, and he loves to run, so be careful not to let him out.”
The burning rubber of her tires hadn’t even stopped smoking as she peeled out of the driveway, before Bailey (aka: Beelzebub) drew blood. Seemed he didn’t like the idea of a walk and let us know it by taking a chunk out of one of our thumbs. Screaming ensued and Beelz…er…Bailey’s lips curled back as, snarling and snapping, he treed all of us (my three dogs included) on the dining room table. Thankfully, my eldest daughter (age 18) took matters in hand by announcing, “I’m not afraid of this bleeping animal. Come here, you! I’m alpha dog and you are going outside to the pen!” She jumped off the table, bravely grabbed the leash and dragged Baily outdoors…where…his head slipped out of the collar and he took off.
More screaming. A new version of the Incredible Journey was born as Bailey began his 20 mile quest for Wendy’s house. Luckily, my 3rd daughter, age 13 is not only brave, but fast. Arms waving like an outboard motor, she managed to head Bailey off at the pass, while daughter number 2, age 15, grabbed a brick of cheese and hefted it into the pen. “Here, Satan! We have cheese for you!” The boys slammed the door and when the dog had finished the cheese, it sneered at us, passed gas, and passed out. Being a terrorist takes the starch out, it would seem.
When Wendy and her husband, Tim, (who starred on a recent episode of Grimm, by the way) returned, I regaled them with this tale and Wendy seemed appropriately shocked…but she’s nearly as good an actor as her husband. He on the other hand looked outraged…that we’d managed to catch the dog and bring it safely home. Apparently he wasn’t very complimentary about Wendy’s latest manuscript, either, and shortly thereafter, she adopted the little dog. Coincidence? I think not, Timmy.