Stupid Human Tricks
Well Maury was here recently and didn't do anything stupid which is some kind of record. Alpha Human Mom on the other hand…
Gotta' say it's not often we get to see AHM do stupid things--not since a couple of years ago when she dropped the air conditioner out the window, half-leaped after it, and hauled it back in by the power cord. Not the best view of AHM let me tell you! But the AC still works.
Most of ya' know AHM helps out people with dog sittin' which generally means we have lots of company like Maury and Miss Garbo. I'm okay with that--especially when that babe Garbo shows up--and it keeps things interestin' durin' the gardenin' season. And chasin' the Westie whimp Robbie around the yard gives my pups a change from chasin' fe-lyings. (Don't think his humans like him comin' home covered with grease from hidin' under the car all the time, but, hey, if you're gonna' be a wuss that's the price you pay.)
The other day, though, we went to Darwin's and Everton's house. We do that whenever their Alpha Human PB wants to spend a night or two with his special--ummm--friend. So the other night we strolled over to their place, sat around outside the garage/pen watchin' them eat (they hold the world food inhalin' record) then walked through the neighborhood to check out the Cute House. (More on that later, maybe.) When we got back to the (heated) garage, Darwin and Everton settled down on their beds, AHM checked the water, turned out the lights, and padlocked the door.
Pretty ordinary so far--until AHM was suddenly down at our level on her hands and knees, gropin' through the grass and leaves and mulch and most everythin' else you can think of--or not as the case may be. The pups thought it was a game and joined right in, stickin' their noses in all sorts of places--most of 'em where a human does not want a cold, wet, snotty dog nose stuck.
AHM started usin' words she musta' learned from a fe-lyin', pretendin' she was talkin' to us. (She does that a lot so people don't think she talks to herself. We pretend to understand.) We had just about figured out she'd mislaid PB's keyring when she sorta' got mislaid herself.
Ya' see, PB is a true English gardener with flowerbeds allllll over the place. Irregularly shaped, raised flowerbeds with waterin' troughs dug around the edges. Ya' don't run through his yard after dark since it's kinda' like chargin' across a WWI no man's land. Ya' don't crawl through his yard either, especially when it's dark and cold--and wet from rain.
There was a distinct splash and AHM hissin' more bad words--hissin' 'cause it was late and AHM isn't the sort to start yellin' obscenities at the top of her lungs no matter how much she wanted to. There were a bunch of sloppin', suckin' noises and then a Gawd-awful clangin'. Seems PB had stuck some decorative iron bells in that particular flowerbed. AHM got them all ringin'.
After a bunch more swearin' and squelchin', AHM finally decided to look through the garage window which led to some louder swearin'. There was just enough light from the corner street lamp to see the keyring lyin' on the workbench inside. Of course all the garage doors were locked. All the windows were locked too. No way in…
Except…
Continued…read the rest!
…except for the doggie door inside the pen.
This show was gonna be better than anything on Letterman.
Everton and Darwin came out and for a couple of seconds we all just stood there starin' at each other and the black hole in the garage wall. AHM isn't a large person but that openin' looked pretty small, especially in the dark. Finally she started gropin' through the bags of leaves piled along the fence--PB's a big recycler and he collects bags of leaves from other people's trash piles. (And you thought only canines went dumpster divin'!)
The gate was at the farthest corner from the light and about this time Everton decided AHM was playin' a game. He would run along the fence, jump up and try to lick AHM's face while she was fightin' with the gate latches. Sometimes he'd get in a lucky shot and AHM would stagger around tryin' to stay on her feet after gettin' smacked by a 60+ pound lab. We were stuck with our leashes tied to the pottin' table so we couldn't see the whole show, but there were bags of leaves bouncin' and rollin' in all directions, and bongin' off the metal frame of the old swing set PB had turned into a flower arbor.
Every time AHM got the gate to budge, Everton would jump against it, slammin' it shut until it started to look like one of those chest-thumpin' celebrations football players have after one of 'em scores a touchdown. AHM finally got the timin' right, actually gettin' inside the pen, and inchin' her way along the fence to the doggie door.
The moment of truth. We were at the end of our leashes strain' to see. Darwin and Everton were lined up like an honor guard by the door. AHM was warnin' 'em both, in no uncertain terms, of the consequences of them tryin' anything funny. Then she charged into the breech. Okay, crawled into the breech. Head. Shoulders. Hips. Butt. She made it!
Darwin and Everton were close behind, bouncin' in celebration. Maybe a little too close. There were a couple of thumps and bangs, a clatter, a slosh, and the sound of AHM usin' more fe-lyin' words. Then she came out through the big garage door, drippin' wet, carryin' the giant sized water bowl. And the keys.
I think even Letterman would be impressed.
posted by Harrison at 2:18 PM
Gotta' say it's not often we get to see AHM do stupid things--not since a couple of years ago when she dropped the air conditioner out the window, half-leaped after it, and hauled it back in by the power cord. Not the best view of AHM let me tell you! But the AC still works.
Most of ya' know AHM helps out people with dog sittin' which generally means we have lots of company like Maury and Miss Garbo. I'm okay with that--especially when that babe Garbo shows up--and it keeps things interestin' durin' the gardenin' season. And chasin' the Westie whimp Robbie around the yard gives my pups a change from chasin' fe-lyings. (Don't think his humans like him comin' home covered with grease from hidin' under the car all the time, but, hey, if you're gonna' be a wuss that's the price you pay.)
The other day, though, we went to Darwin's and Everton's house. We do that whenever their Alpha Human PB wants to spend a night or two with his special--ummm--friend. So the other night we strolled over to their place, sat around outside the garage/pen watchin' them eat (they hold the world food inhalin' record) then walked through the neighborhood to check out the Cute House. (More on that later, maybe.) When we got back to the (heated) garage, Darwin and Everton settled down on their beds, AHM checked the water, turned out the lights, and padlocked the door.
Pretty ordinary so far--until AHM was suddenly down at our level on her hands and knees, gropin' through the grass and leaves and mulch and most everythin' else you can think of--or not as the case may be. The pups thought it was a game and joined right in, stickin' their noses in all sorts of places--most of 'em where a human does not want a cold, wet, snotty dog nose stuck.
AHM started usin' words she musta' learned from a fe-lyin', pretendin' she was talkin' to us. (She does that a lot so people don't think she talks to herself. We pretend to understand.) We had just about figured out she'd mislaid PB's keyring when she sorta' got mislaid herself.
Ya' see, PB is a true English gardener with flowerbeds allllll over the place. Irregularly shaped, raised flowerbeds with waterin' troughs dug around the edges. Ya' don't run through his yard after dark since it's kinda' like chargin' across a WWI no man's land. Ya' don't crawl through his yard either, especially when it's dark and cold--and wet from rain.
There was a distinct splash and AHM hissin' more bad words--hissin' 'cause it was late and AHM isn't the sort to start yellin' obscenities at the top of her lungs no matter how much she wanted to. There were a bunch of sloppin', suckin' noises and then a Gawd-awful clangin'. Seems PB had stuck some decorative iron bells in that particular flowerbed. AHM got them all ringin'.
After a bunch more swearin' and squelchin', AHM finally decided to look through the garage window which led to some louder swearin'. There was just enough light from the corner street lamp to see the keyring lyin' on the workbench inside. Of course all the garage doors were locked. All the windows were locked too. No way in…
Except…
Continued…read the rest!
…except for the doggie door inside the pen.
This show was gonna be better than anything on Letterman.
Everton and Darwin came out and for a couple of seconds we all just stood there starin' at each other and the black hole in the garage wall. AHM isn't a large person but that openin' looked pretty small, especially in the dark. Finally she started gropin' through the bags of leaves piled along the fence--PB's a big recycler and he collects bags of leaves from other people's trash piles. (And you thought only canines went dumpster divin'!)
The gate was at the farthest corner from the light and about this time Everton decided AHM was playin' a game. He would run along the fence, jump up and try to lick AHM's face while she was fightin' with the gate latches. Sometimes he'd get in a lucky shot and AHM would stagger around tryin' to stay on her feet after gettin' smacked by a 60+ pound lab. We were stuck with our leashes tied to the pottin' table so we couldn't see the whole show, but there were bags of leaves bouncin' and rollin' in all directions, and bongin' off the metal frame of the old swing set PB had turned into a flower arbor.
Every time AHM got the gate to budge, Everton would jump against it, slammin' it shut until it started to look like one of those chest-thumpin' celebrations football players have after one of 'em scores a touchdown. AHM finally got the timin' right, actually gettin' inside the pen, and inchin' her way along the fence to the doggie door.
The moment of truth. We were at the end of our leashes strain' to see. Darwin and Everton were lined up like an honor guard by the door. AHM was warnin' 'em both, in no uncertain terms, of the consequences of them tryin' anything funny. Then she charged into the breech. Okay, crawled into the breech. Head. Shoulders. Hips. Butt. She made it!
Darwin and Everton were close behind, bouncin' in celebration. Maybe a little too close. There were a couple of thumps and bangs, a clatter, a slosh, and the sound of AHM usin' more fe-lyin' words. Then she came out through the big garage door, drippin' wet, carryin' the giant sized water bowl. And the keys.
I think even Letterman would be impressed.
posted by Harrison at 2:18 PM
2 Comments:
Pat in NC said...
Wish I had been there but I got company of my own. Bear
(a really big black lab or such) is visiting while his humans are in NY. The fe-lyins here really stay out of his way. It is nice to have company, but you know what they say...
Spot in NC
I coulda' used ya' to hold the camera! Hope you're havin' fun with Bear.
11:15 PM