Wednesday, March 7, 2012

In a Couple of Weeks I Am Sure This Will Be Funny

Today was suppose to be 80 degrees and as far as I know it was.  My grand-dog, Andy, lives in an apartment but he loves to come to grandma's house and play with my dogs, Zoe and Gracie.  Since it was going to be pretty outside today, and suppose to snow on Thursday I asked Casey if Andy would like to come spend the afternoon with us and burn off some energy wearing my dogs out playing.  I brought Andy home and ~ as pride goeth before a fall ~ I was pretty darn proud of myself for remembering to put him in the front yard instead of the back yard when we got out of the car.  My dogs have a doggy door that allows them to go in the back yard.  They only play in the front yard when Andy is visiting.  My next door neighbors have 3 dobermans, a pit bull and a schnauzer (and at any given time seem to have a litter of puppies).  All 5 of the grown dogs hate Andy.  The little schnauzer is just vocal and she is ok but the dobermans and especially the pit bull charge at my chain link fence and if only their teeth could bite through the fencing Andy would be an appetizer for them.    Andy thinks it is a great game, run like crazy the length of the fence ~ 110 feet ~ with these snarling, snapping, teeth baring, barking dogs running with him.  Andy barks his foghorn beagle bark egging on the 5 neighbor dogs, who have barks that do not sound even as playful as a rabid wolf.   His tail is wagging. Theirs is not.  Andy is a one year old beagle and can run like the wind.  The doberman's legs are about 4 times as long as Andy's so everyone is running at a pretty good clip.  Grandma is an overweight, out of shape, flabby woman who does not run.  This is why I was so proud of myself for remembering to put Andy in the front yard.  If he gets in the back yard the assault at the fence is on, Andy suddenly has selective hearing and can't hear me yelling at him to get in the house.  Ok, fine.  I put him in the front yard.  Mentally patted myself on the back and unlocked the front door.  What did Andy do? Went in the front door with me and ran like his tail was on fire to the doggy door and out to the fence to meet his "friends." Well, I am the only human here and the barking was loud enough to wake the dead in the closest cemetary--oh, 10 miles or so down the road--so it was up to me to go corral Andy and get him back in the front yard.  Did I mention the pitbull and dobermans like me even less than they do Andy? And the schnauzer, being a schnauzer like mine, adds her voice to the noise whenever I am in sight just on principle.  Here we go....of course my two dogs have joined in the chase and barking show....a total of 8 barking dogs and me running up and down the fence.  Me, running sort of bent over with my arms outstretched trying to catch that short, dadgum rotten Andy, puffing, panting and yelling for him to stop.  It was so noisy even my neighbor came out to see what was going on.  She never comes out.  She smokes.  Have I ever mentioned that smoke closes up my asthmatic lungs like nothing else and I would prefer the smell of  buzzard road kill vomit then the smell of a cigarette?  Ever notice how one filthy cigarette can pollute the air for a very long way? So, here is neighbor lady, no---she has never told me her name---out at the fence, puffing on her cigarette and watching me, NOT doing a darn thing to call her dogs away from the fence, mind you, just watching me in my pathetic bent over run trying to catch Andy.  Picture me panting out "hi" (puff puff pant pant) "just trying to catch my granddog" (pant pant)  "gonna get him in my front yard" (pant pant cough sputter).  She never says a word, even though she is not 6 feet from me, at least when I am down at that end of the fence.  Finally, my girls decide to run inside through the doggy door so Andy, bless his heart, considers following them.  He runs up my steps to the door, me hot on his heels lest he change his mind, when he whirls around to go back to the fence and I dive at him to stop him.  In the process I fall on the porch (pride goeth before a fall didn't I say) and I jam the toe of my shoe into the metal railing of the trailer house steps...or the end of the concrete sidewalk that is right there, I am not sure.  I just know my foot hit something solid with a good bit of force and whatever it hit stopped my foot on a dime.  Through my shoe it felt like my big toe either broke or jammed really bad.  The entire rest of the day I could barely stand to walk on that foot and laying here in bed with my laptop it is trobbing.  I am sure in a couple of weeks I will see something funny in this but right now not so much. 


Anonymous said...

I am so sorry that you hurt your foot. But, I do wish I had a movie to show you what it all looked like when you are able to laugh.

Carol said...

LOL! I wish I had a movie of it too. I'd also like an ongoing video of what my dogs do all morning while I am gone. I can stand to move my toe today so must not been much of a "hurt."