It is very difficult to write this post given the amount of discomfort I am in. Not to mention the humiliation I am feeling. Two words for you: burn, itch. Here's two more: fire, ant. Got it?
I was completing a private job in the backyard, which is never private enough for us canines, if you know what I mean. Either we're being stared at, shouted at to hurry up, or having crass comments made about what we are doing. Anyway, I was doing my business when I felt sudden, repeating stabs of pain. If I were Alpha Pants, I would have screamed obscenities. But I am only Brady, and I was rendered voiceless with the combination of pain and my hideous fear of insects.
I tore madly around the yard, trying to escape the agony. My idiot owners thought I was playing a game, and laughed at me. When I came into the house, I did everything I could to communicate my need for assistance, besides standing up on my hind two feet, pointing at my belly with a paw, and demanding immediate intervention. Instead, they followed me around, commenting and giggling on how silly and adorable I was. FAIL!!! FAIL!!!! FAIL!!!!!
To make a long and probably useless story short, Alpha Pants finally decided to see if something was wrong with my rear end (as if!), and discovered that I was literally CRAWLING with fire ants in my nether regions. Things swiftly turned in my favor as three genuinely repentent humans scrabbled through my fur, braving fire ant bites and removed many of the evil critters from me. But the damage was done. My poor belly is speckled with red, swollen bites that will itch, burn, and discomfort me for days.
My closing advice: look before you squat.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Such goin's on!
Rarely have I enjoyed a spectacle such as I did this evening. It's homecoming season, and there were fireworks in the air the past month as Alpha Pants does not have warm feelings for teen dances, but teens, well, they do. Since the oldest teen is about sixteen, she was allowed to go in spite of it all.
Erica, the teen we speak of, had a friend and the friends date over to get ready and have dinner. Alpha Pants was going to prepare a lovely feast of shredded pork tacos, Mexican rice, etc. Right in the middle of browning the rice and two children emptying the dishwasher, Alpha Pants ran outside to start her sprinkler. Why, you may ask? What was so important about watering the lawn at that moment? I can hardly say.
I tried to follow her. She had no idea I had an upset tummy. When she came tearing back into the house to stir the rice, she unfortunately stepped with her bare feet in my barf, which I left lying on the slick floor right next to the back door. Since there was company in the house, and since she was cooking their dinner, she tried to be discreet. She hissed hysterically at the two younger children to bring her paper towels. They stared at her for several moments, then ineffectively tried to locate paper towels. Meanwhile, a very pungent burning smell was coming from the stove.
As they hand the increasingly irate Alpha Pants the requested paper towels, into the kitchen walk the infortunate Erica and her friend (whom, before this very evening, Alpha Pants has never met). Oblivous as only teens can be, Erica says, "What smells so good? Can I have the guacamole? Oh, did the dog throw up?" And enters the fray, tearing open the chips and digging into the fridge for cokes.
Well, Emily Post would be shaking her head in horror, as Alpha Pants pulled back her lips in rabid dog style and ordered the girls out of the kitchen. Company or no, I guess there's only so much a mom can take.
Alpha Pants did explain her behavior later at dinner (sans the rice), and shared what I hope was equal amusement with the teens. Hopefully, when those girls are adults, something similar will happen to them and they will remember her with understanding.
As for me, I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I didn't get in trouble for barfing. Erica and friend distracted Alpha Pants from that. Instead, I eavesdropped, barked, got fed under the table, and successfully got dog hair all over the dressed-up almost-adults. What a great evening.
Erica, the teen we speak of, had a friend and the friends date over to get ready and have dinner. Alpha Pants was going to prepare a lovely feast of shredded pork tacos, Mexican rice, etc. Right in the middle of browning the rice and two children emptying the dishwasher, Alpha Pants ran outside to start her sprinkler. Why, you may ask? What was so important about watering the lawn at that moment? I can hardly say.
I tried to follow her. She had no idea I had an upset tummy. When she came tearing back into the house to stir the rice, she unfortunately stepped with her bare feet in my barf, which I left lying on the slick floor right next to the back door. Since there was company in the house, and since she was cooking their dinner, she tried to be discreet. She hissed hysterically at the two younger children to bring her paper towels. They stared at her for several moments, then ineffectively tried to locate paper towels. Meanwhile, a very pungent burning smell was coming from the stove.
As they hand the increasingly irate Alpha Pants the requested paper towels, into the kitchen walk the infortunate Erica and her friend (whom, before this very evening, Alpha Pants has never met). Oblivous as only teens can be, Erica says, "What smells so good? Can I have the guacamole? Oh, did the dog throw up?" And enters the fray, tearing open the chips and digging into the fridge for cokes.
Well, Emily Post would be shaking her head in horror, as Alpha Pants pulled back her lips in rabid dog style and ordered the girls out of the kitchen. Company or no, I guess there's only so much a mom can take.
Alpha Pants did explain her behavior later at dinner (sans the rice), and shared what I hope was equal amusement with the teens. Hopefully, when those girls are adults, something similar will happen to them and they will remember her with understanding.
As for me, I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I didn't get in trouble for barfing. Erica and friend distracted Alpha Pants from that. Instead, I eavesdropped, barked, got fed under the table, and successfully got dog hair all over the dressed-up almost-adults. What a great evening.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
