Our good friends, Kathy and Kurtis finally relented to the pleadings of their 7 year old daughter, Terri and decided to give her a puppy for Christmas.
Kathy wanted something tiny and cuddly like a Chihuahua or teacup poodle. Curtis wanted something manly like a St. Bernard. For weeks prior to Christmas they scoured every animal shelter within an hours dive of their home, and also responded to newspaper and on-line ads. After looking at dozens and dozens of puppy they came up empty handed.
A few days before Christmas Curtis came home from work and proudly announced that he found the perfect puppy and that he had made arrangements with the breeder to pick it up on Christmas morning. He said it was a "pretty small guy" and that "the owner said it was the smallest in the litter."
Now Kathy's folks live in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma and they had made arrangements some months earlier to fly out for a brief visit with them. They were scheduled to arrive on the 22nd and leave on the afternoon of the 24th. Everything was planned down to the minute.
What wasn't in their plans however was being snowed in at the Will Rogers World Airport in Oklahoma City on the 24th. It looked like they would not make it home in time for Christmas.
In a panic Curtis called me the morning of the 24th and asked if I could pick up their new puppy and care for it until they were able to catch a flight home. A tiny puppy did not fit into my Christmas plans, but what else could I do but agree to "puppy-sit" until they got home. After all, what are friends for ?
We were having guests for dinner that night, but since I had prepared most of the meal ahead of time, and the table was already set I would have plenty of time to dash across town and pick up the puppy. I didn't see how it could be much of a problem.
The "puppy" turned out to be a 4 month old Great Dane mix. It was huge! I mean really huge. It took 2 of us just to pile him into the passenger seat of my truck. It also took 2 of us to pile me into the drivers side because the puppy was all legs, tail and tongue and he used all 3 non-stop and with great exuberance. Granted, he was cute, but he was also a serious driving hazard. He blocked the passenger side window and mirror, dislodged the rear view mirror, fogged up the windows and slobbered over everything.
I managed to get him within about a mile of my home when suddenly he began to frantically pant and whine. I thought he had to go "potty" so I quickly pulled off to the side of the road, snapped the leash onto his collar and tried to pull him out the passenger side door.
Well, as it turns out he didn't have to go "potty" he had to throw up! He apparently couldn't wait another 5 seconds until I could pull him out of the truck, because the contents of his breakfast and quite possibly his dinner from the night before were violently hurled onto me.
I continued to try and coax him out of the truck, but it was obvious that he had done what he needed to do and as such refused to leave the warmth of the vehicle. I was upset, but I live on a ranch and having a very large dog throw up on me wasn't the worst thing that had happened to me, but it was a close second.
Once I got him to my house it took a good 15 minutes for me to get him out of the truck. He tossed his head in the air and planted his feet firmly on the seat. I wondered if he was afraid of heights so I tried to lift him out. Actually it was more of a lift/shove/pull motion. That maneuver finally did the trick, but not without casualty. Mine. Somehow he managed to slam his big head into my right eye.
Finally I hauled him into the house. Apparently he not only dislikes travel, has a fear of heights but he must also have a fear of tile floors. I had to use the push/pull technique again to get him into the laundry room.
Since I had been expecting to bring home a tiny fuzzy semi-helpless little puppy I had arranged a very small but cozy doggie bed in one corner of the laundry room. The "puppy" took one look at it, tossed it up in the air and began to shred it. "N0 No" I yelled while making a grab for it.
Immediately , the "puppy" lost interest in it and managed to slip out the laundry room door. I could hear unidentifiable objects crashing to the floor as he thundered though the house. I flung the shredded doggie bed to one side and ran after him.
He mowed though the house with his tremendously long tail whirling like a helicopter. Everything in it's wake toppled to the floor. Before I could catch him he discovered an edge of the dangling table cloth and gave it a side to side jerking pull. My china, glasses, cups, saucers, silverware and beautiful center piece cascaded off the table in a wild cacophony of clatter as they shattered.
I lunged for the puppy, but as I attempted to grab hold of his collar he backed under the table with my frayed centerpiece in his mouth. His tail wagged gleefully and his eyes sparkled with merriment. He was thoroughly enjoying this insane game.
I crawled on hands and knees under the table and managed to grab hold of his collar but not before cutting my left knee on a broken piece of glass. A head bumped sharply on the underside of the table. It wasn't the puppy's !
I managed to drag him back to the laundry room. However, as I attempted to close the door he sensed my intention and tried to squeeze his bulky body through the narrowing crack. I stopped closing the door to avoid slamming his nose in it. With one hand on the door knob I used the other hand to shove him back into the laundry room. In the process I managed to close the door on my hand. We both began to howl simultaneously.
Once the door closed I slid to the floor. I was exhausted, disheveled, and smelled like dog vomit, but at least I was victorious. I badly needed a shower, I also needed to salvage the dinner table and finish fixing dinner. My guests were scheduled to arrive in approximately 45 minutes.
I hobbled to the bathroom trying to ignore the morbid howling and sounds of mass destruction coming from the laundry room. Glancing in the mirror I saw my right eye black and blue and swollen nearly shut. It matched my left hand which was now throbbing. Strands of my hair were stuck together, my knee was bleeding, and I smelled like I'd spent the night sleeping in a fermenting dumpster.
Sniffling, I turned on the hot water tap in the shower and began to peel off the stiff stinking clothes. Over the howls (mostly mine) and the running water I heard the doorbell ring. Wouldn't you know it? My guests were early!
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