Life with dogs is never dull.
Add in cheap wine, and argument with your brother, and the local wildlife. The perfect recipe for disaster.
I poured a small glass of wine, let the pups out, and started looking for dinner. Then my brother called. An hour later, we are still chatting, and nearly half the bottle was gone.
Feeling no guilt, I poured a little more and kept chatting with him. At some point, I realized the dogs were still outside, and it was getting dark. I went to let them in. Marlee, the usual troublemaker, was the only one there.
I asked Marlee where his brother was. All I got was a tail wag, a couple licks, and then he ran into the house.
I walked out onto the porch and yelled for Major. Nothing.
Meanwhile, my brother is giving me a lecture on proper dog parenting. He really did know how to get a rise out of me. I lovingly lit into him. Then we said our goodbyes.
Still annoyed by his lecture, I slipped on my flip-flops, grabbed a flashlight, took a swig of wine, and headed out the door. Marlee tried to follow.
“No. You abandoned your brother. Stay in the house. Shame to you and your whole family.”
I walked the yard calling for him. Not a peep, a whine, or a bark. Major is the bigger calmer and collected one unless, it’s one of the neighbor’s cats.
I turned on the flashlight. No Major in sight. I shined it towards his favorite spot, the field.
Nothing.
I was walking the yard when I heard a meow. I spotted the neighbor’s poor cat perched on a tree branch. A telltale sign that Major had been here.
I got the cat down and continued my search. Then I heard a faint bark drifting toward the field. I cursed and headed that way.
I heard him bark, then yelp. It sounded like it was coming from the woods. I bellowed for him to get back to the house.
An excited bark. Damn dog, of course he wanted to act a fool tonight. Then another yelp, followed by the faintest sound of squawking.
“Major, come on!”
I heard him closer, panicked. Then the angry animal yelling. Something tore through the trees at full speed.
Major burst out of the woods, yelping, tail between his legs. He was terrified and not paying attention, nearly colliding with me.
But before I could react, the biggest goose I ever seen came charging out of the woods. The size of a Volkswagen Beetle.
This massive dinosaur locked eyes with me and started toward me.
“Oh hell no!” I yelled, dropped the flashlight, and took off toward the house.
This would have been an easy race if I hadn’t been wearing flip-flops. Major stopped right in front of me and nearly tripped me, just to give one last bark before darting off.
Thanks, Major. So helpful. Love you too, buddy.
The bark only enraged the T-rex more. He spread his wings, puffed out his chest, and started running, flying or whatever it was towards us. Terrifying.
I screamed like a baby seeing Santa for the first time.
This caused the neighbor’s porch light to come on. Lovely. Just lovely.
I kept running, or more like speed walking because of the flip-flops. Why did I put on flip-flops? I blame the wine.
I could hear his angry honks and hisses getting closer. Major ran full steam ahead and made it to the porch, leaving me in the dust.
I hit a mud hole. I didn’t fall, but I lost a flip-flop. I kept going as fast as I could. All I wanted was to get to the house and grab the fly swatter to defend myself.
He was gaining on me. Thanks to the wine, my fight response finally kicked in.
I stopped and kicked off my remaining flip-flop.
I turned around, and the T-rex was right in front of me. I swung the flip-flop and missed.
It hissed.
Major did nothing but sit on the porch, waiting for someone to let him in. I swung again and hit the T-rex on the head. The wrong thing to do.
The T-rex came at me full speed. I moved. He hit my shoulder with his beak, and I lost the flip-flop. I went full southpaw.
The wine made me confident. This time he flies up, I swing and miss. I stepped into a newly dug hole by one of them and went down. I was stuck and had no choice but to try and knock this prehistoric jackass out.
The T-rex laughed at me, then bit my foot. I grabbed the flip-flop, ready to crack him again.
Before I could land a blow, Marlee swooped in and launched himself at the T-rex. He landed on all fours and barked loudly.
The T-rex hissed, then ran back towards the woods. I lay on the nasty ground; my foot still stuck in the hole.
What just happened?
Marlee barked, then trotted over licked me triumphantly, tali wagging.
“Thanks, boy.” I said, rubbing his head.
I limped back to the house.
Marlee proudly strutted beside me. I was covered in mud and who knows what else.
Wait. “Marlee, how did you get out?”
The screen door wasn’t busted. Lovely. He had evolved and could now open the screen door.
I sat down on the porch and looked at my foot. No marks.
Major trotted over and laid his big head on my lap.
“Yeah, buddy, you’re safe, thanks to your brother.” Marlee flopped down in the chaise and started licking himself.
I blamed my brother and called him back. If you have older siblings, you know it is always their fault.
He laughed as I recounted the horrible night and poured out the rest of the cheap wine.
Hope you enjoy one of the many mishaps with my dogs. Thanks for reading!
