puppy woes

Y'all.

I don't even know if I can do this story justice through words alone.

Epic. It was epic.

Last night, in the chill of the cold evening, as we arrived home I saw a quick dark something scurry down the edge of the house and under our porch steps. I practically shoved Hayley inside, jumped in myself, slammed the door and then peeked out the window to see what it was (because that's what all sane people do in these situations)

It was a puppy... a brown and black little munchkin of a puppy with a simple plastic collar on.

I drop all our stuff inside the door and proceed into the house.

I find out that while Michael unloaded the child from his vehicle, he did not unload all the other daily necessities for today from it. I realize I'm going back outside...with the puppy that almost killed me via surprise element just minutes before. I tell Michael there is a dog out there.... He tells me not to worry about it and just get the stuff out of the car.

I open the door and a little puppy face pops out from under the truck next to the steps.

Ok, he's little. I can take him. and by take him I mean drop kick him if he starts acting the fool in my general direction... at least that's what I tell myself in my head because we all know that I'd probably be backing away very slowly or maybe quite quickly dashing to the door because I don't have it in me to kick a puppy should he begin to act the fool in my general direction)

I go out to the car.. not making eye contact or speaking to the puppy. He need not believe that this is his new home.

He beats me back to the porch and is between me and the door.

Then the little beast starts growling at me.

"Hey! Cut that out! Not at my house are you gonna growl at me. Get down. Get out of the way!"

this puppy obviously hasn't learned that people instructions matter

Then the puppy starts whimpering instead of growling as I take the first step up.

He's on the backside of the door where the hinge is.

In my diluted distraction, I think to myself, with my two full hands of stuff and shoulder bag of camera bag... I'll just ease the door open, he'll be between it and porch railing, and I'll jump into the door before he gets around it.

Idea meet failure to account for tiny puppy size and wit.

The door is not even a quarter of the way big enough for my stuff to get through let alone me when the puppy takes two sniffs with his tiny nose and wiggles himself right underneath the door into the tiniest of openings and takes off into the house.

My house. With the two daughters who are petrified of all dogs. Even tiny ones.

I yell "MICHAEL!" about the time the puppy rounds the corner and Michael lays eyes on him (Michael who was until this point sitting in the chair on the telephone). I drop my stuff, close the door back (y'all, its cold out there!), and commence to coming into the house to get to the girls or the dog or whichever came at me first.

I see the little squirt dart through the living room and into the door of Hayley's room. Michael appears to be moving in slow motion and is still on the telephone to boot. Then the puppy runs into the bathroom. The smallest room of the entire house. Where there are two girls. One on the potty. And one standing next to the bathtub.

Cue TERROR SCREAMS! Legs flying up. Bowen almost goes headfirst into tub. All I see when I round the corner is her diapered covered butt and bare legs scrambling to try and climb a bathtub. Hayley is screaming bloody murder and shaking and pulling her legs up and convulsing tighter to the fetal position everytime she looks at the dog.

Who is now hiding behind the trashcan and toilet on which she sits. Probably scared out of his ever-loving mind because I'm pretty sure he wasn't counting on busting his eardrums with children screams when he darted into our house. I sit down in the floor and grab up Bowen, start issuing condolences and its oks and quiet down. And loudly telling Hayley to stop screaming and be still and its fine and we're good.

And for the love of all things good and holy why is this dog still in here and where is Michael?

Michael, is standing in the door trying to figure out how to get to the dog between the two screaming children, the sprawled out mama and the hiding dog behind the toilet. And he's still on the phone.

Michael gets his hands on the dog and throws him back out on the porch where he tries to scramble back into the house but Michael gets the door shut. I, meanwhile, have gotten Bowen calm and am now having the "Why was there a dog in our house? I don't like dogs. I only like Lou (who is a dog who is the exception to the rule). That puppy needs to go to his house." discussion in rapid speed of
peat and repeat with Hayley who is still sitting on the potty with one lone tear still hanging onto her cheek.

I come out of the bathroom and Bowen is now playing in the living room like nothing happens. Hayley goes through the same line of questioning with Michael who has finally gotten off the phone after throwing the dog out the door.

And this all happened in less than 3 minutes.

I kid you not.



Today's note:  I was greeted by the same little puppy when I came out the door this morning. He was covered in a mix of spiderwebs and dew drops. I have a very bad feeling that he has self-proclaimed our house as his home. I'm not sure where our signals got crossed because I am quite sure the girls made it perfectly clear that he was not welcome.

I however am my father's daughter, and while he will not come in my house, and I will not feed him today in hopes that he will find his way back to his owners, or they will find him, I did put a box with a towel out in the yard. It's cold and he's little. Shut your face.