Aug. 28, from Louie, Day 89

Hoo-eeee, Pops,

I never seen Mom so spittin’ mad. She even scairt me.

See, I’ve been lethargic, as Mom told you. I don’t see paisley no more, but I think there’s still some downers floatin’ through my system, ‘cuz I wasn’t at all innerested in our afternoon stroll. Mom had to bribe me outside with a promise of some chicken sprinkles when we got home.

So we was moseyin’ through the park next door, ‘n’ I’d just stopped to snuffle some well-aged Pringles in the grass where the little kids play ball, when suddenly from outta NOWHERE, a big gray dog come runnin’ up to us.

Well, I’m not so lethargic that I’ve forgot my manners, so I lifted my tail in greetin’ ‘n’ prepared my snout for some mutual sniffin’ to say hello.

Only this guy immediately invaded my space before there’d been proper introductions, ‘n’ he started to snort in my face.

‘N’ me ‘n’ Mom both knew this was trouble, ‘cuz he was wearin’ a spiked choke collar.

Way off in the distance, clear on the other side of the playground, a female human started callin’, “Come! Come!” but not too urgently.

Well, I can handle one big fella, even if he is bein’ rude.

But then an even bigger black guy sportin’ an even nastier spiked choke collar come gallopin’ up to us, ‘n’ I could smell the nervousness squirtin’ outta Mom’s pores. (She couldn’t help it, Pops. Humans sweat. But it sure did put me at a disadvantage.)

Off in the distance, in the middle of the playground, two female humans was callin’, “Come! Come! Come!” But again, not too urgently.

Well, the gray guy ‘n’ the black guy closed in on me, nippin’ at me ‘n’ gruntin’ so as to let me know who was boss. But I curled my lips ‘n’ nipped back. No one actually got bit, but we was all nippin’ ‘n’ swirlin’ around Mom’s bare thighs ‘n’ pretty soon, there was just a frenzy of black ‘n’ gray fur, ‘n’ Mom in the middle of it.

The two female humans meandered out from under the trees, leisurely swingin’ their leashes.

Well, the black guy lunged for my eyes ‘n’ the gray guy went for my butt, ‘n’ I bared my fangs for a pre-emptive strike when suddenly Mom stomped her foot ‘n’ a “NOOOOOOOO!” the volume of which you never heard before erupted outta her mouth.

Me ‘n’ the other dogs froze, stunned that such a great big roar could come outta such a scrawny chest. (Sorry, Mom, but ‘cept for your chubby tummy ‘n’ butt, you really are scrawny.)

The two female humans suddenly realized that their dogs was misbehavin’ ‘n’ hustled over to get their growlin’ animals under control.

“Oh, gosh,” one of them blathered, “I’m so sorry. We didn’t see you way over here.”

Well, you know Mom, she usually caves when someone apologizes ‘n’ tries to pretend that everythin’ is all right,

Me 'n' Mom lookin' for Pops at Big Bend.

Me ‘n’ Mom lookin’ for Pops at Big Bend.

But this afternoon, she was hot. Maybe her nerves was on edge ‘cuz of your precarious situation car-wise. Maybe she had a fright ‘cuz I was outnumbered by dogs wearin’ spikes. Or maybe she was just tired of humans takin’ advantage. Whatever. So instead of retreatin’, she said quite angrily, “Your dogs should be on a leash!”

“Oh, they weren’t gonna cause no trouble,” one of the females said by way of an excuse.

“If they need to wear spiked collars, they need to be on a leash!” Mom insisted.

“Hey,” the other female huffed, “we was just lettin’ ’em run a little.”

“You want ’em to run?” Mom shot back. “Take ’em to the dog park. Don’t let ’em run loose in a park where kids is playin’.” ‘N’ Mom waved to the toddlers conveniently playin’ on the slidin’ board.

“Look,” the first female panted, strugglin’ to get the black dog under control, “your dog is just as much at fault. He was bein’ just as mean.”

“Louie?” Mom said in surprise. “You mean this dog here?”

‘N’ when Mom ‘n’ the females turned to look at me, I was presentin’ a perfect RCA dog moment. I never sit so pretty before in my life, ‘n’ I prob’bly never will again, but for that moment, I was the picture of obedience ‘n’ control. (Quite handsome, too, I might add.)

The females muttered unkind words under their breath ‘n’ begun draggin’ their protestin’ dogs to the sidewalk.

Me ‘n’ Mom strolled majestically around the perimeter of the park.

We met the enemy, ‘n’ Mom won.

She’s full of suprises for an old girl, isn’t she, Pops?


Pops replies:

Oh, Louie: Your Mom can still surprise us, can’t she? I’m glad you stood your ground, Lou. They was in your park and offa their leashes — you did the right thing.

p.s. Shrew! It’s a good thing I saved up all that good karma. Clear sailin’ all the way home, Lou. All the way home. Tonight I grabbed the last of 500 motel rooms in Sydney, Nebraska, and it was only because I walked in at the Comfort Inn when a no-show was cancelled. Good karma, Lou. It’s what you get when you do the right thing when there is nothing to gain by doing the right thing.
Published in: on August 28, 2013 at 9:02 pm  Leave a Comment  

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