As the years pass, we collect experiences that help mold us into who we are. Since the present is usually were we’re focusing, our past events sometimes become forgotten. We all have fun forgotten facts; I’ll share one of mine, if you share one of yours!
I think you can picture it. Teenager + car + rain + tar + black top road + curve + gravel = disaster. Thankfully we all came out of it okay, though my fellow student in the back booked it to the woods to relieve himself.
Since winter our family has talked about getting a puppy. I knew exactly what kind of dog we needed; a Red Bone Hound. Lazy and beautiful is what I was hoping for. But Mike told me my dog picking days were over. The last dog I picked almost killed me.
When spring came, we began our search. We checked the local papers and Craigslist but nothing seemed right. We went to our local pound but instead of roly-poly puppies, the pens were full of angry adults that snapped and barked.
Spring passed, and with its passing so did our hope for a puppy…that is until Mike came home with one a few weeks ago. When he held her out, proud of his pick, the kids all squealed with excitement. I stood in the doorway with hands my hips and said, “That is the ugliest puppy I have ever seen. It looks like a possum!”
Instantly the kids loved her. They called her, ‘Panda’. I called her, ‘Ugly Puppy’. She howled and scratched at our front door. She barked constantly at our cat. She liked to poop in my strawberry patch. Her favorite things to chew were bicycle wheels and she liked to jump on my baby boy. As the weeks went by, I saw puppy disasters everywhere.
Monday night our family went on a nature hike in a field by our home. Panda began to follow. We shooed her home, knowing she couldn't keep up. When we got back, she was gone. We told our worried children she was around and not to fret. When the kids were in bed and I was out watering my flowers, I dropped the hose when I heard the yelp and a car speeding away.
The next morning we buried Panda under the apple tree. We all gathered flowers and said a little prayer. Our youngest, Abe, (5yrs old) was the first of our children to say a little something about our family puppy. He told us, with regretful tears rolling down his chubby cheeks, he was sorry he ran away when Panda wanted to play and he was sorry he pushed her down when she licked him on the face and he was sorry he got mad when he stepped in her poop. He was now going to miss all that. He wished Panda didn't have to die.
If any of us had dry eyes, we didn't anymore. Abe said it perfectly. Puppies aren't perfect; they actually drive us a little crazy at times. But what is perfect about a puppy is all they want is to love and be loved. We realized it didn't matter that our puppy was ugly, we loved her and she loved us. She was a good little mutt.
My husband is a yard sale, flea market junky. Every weekend he comes home with boxes of knick knacks, stuffed animals, actions figures, baseball cards, well…I could use this entire page to list the items he brings home. Let’s just say he brings home a bit of everything. He is all about making a profit and so he flips his finds on eBay or sets up a table, from time to time, at the local flea market.
Usually he goes through his finds before toting them up into our bedroom but apparently he failed to do that with one box. As I was working on a story idea, thesaurus in hand, something caught my attention and I looked up. From out of that unexplored box was a mouse jumping up and down, trying to make its escape. In a panic I looked around wondering what I should do. I yelled but no one came to my aid. I was horrified when I watched the mouse finally hop from the box.
I wasn’t about to have a mouse in the house so I did what I could only do. I threw my thesaurus. To my surprise it stuck the mouse! I ran to it noticing it was only stunned and about to come around. I screeched and finally my 11yr old daughter heard my alarm. To my rescue she came. “Are you kidding?” I asked as she handed me two pieces of toilet paper. But before I could tell her to run for a cup or something, the mouse was on the run again. I grabbed it, with my two pieces of toilet paper, and hurried down the stairs to throw it outside.
Warlock, our great hunter of a cat, turned his nose up at the mouse when I tossed it out. He even lifted his paw as if saying “ewww” and backed away. It was our ugly, possum looking puppy that ended the drama. He came over and with one chomp swallowed the thing whole.
Maybe that ugly thing is worth something after all.
