I got my daughter a Dalmatian for her thirteenth birthday. I do believe that was one of the biggest mistakes of my life. For about a day and a half, Annie was sweet. As soon as she got her bearings, she became a hyperactive, maniacal buzz saw, plundering and eviscerating everything in her path from shoes to the rag top on my husband’s MG, but that’s a story for another post.
At eighteen months, Annie’s hormones kicked in. Overnight, she was transformed into a nasty-tempered, sullen,farting, bitch, such a blessed relief. One day she was sitting between Bud and Mother farting up a storm. Bud and Mother each kept looking accusingly at the other, thinking surely they would eventually do the decent thing and excuse themselves.
Deciding to take her show on the road one morning, Annie decided the best thing for her to do was to tunnel under our neighbor’s back fence to pay him a call. Brian wasn’t in the yard, so she trotted into the house looking for him. He was deep in thought, sitting on the toilet, enjoying some quality time. Inspired by his wise example, Annie squatted and produced a fine example of her own. Though I didn’t see the actual event, I did get to hear about it in great detail.My daughter once had a fat, farting, sullen Dalmatian named Annie who liked only two things in this world. The kid across the street named Greg and anything with wheels: riding mower, wagon, wheel barrow, cars…..We’d often look out and see Annie sitting on the seat of the riding mower. I do believe if we’d left the keys in she would have cranked it. She’d even try to sit perched ridiculously on top of the push mower. If we left a car door open, she’d go flying in, hopping in the driver’s seat, perched behind the wheel. When she did make a car trip, we had to restrain her to keep her in the back.
Annie and the MG
My husband bought a red MG Midget with a rag top. Can you guess where this is headed? Annie fell in love with it, thinking it was just her size. It was in really good condition, except for a dime-sized snag in the rag top just over the driver’s seat. Bud normally parked it in the garage, but he carelessly left it in the drive one night. When he came out the next morning, Annie was sitting in the driver’s seat, staring straight ahead. She wouldn’t look to the right or the left. She had wanted to get in that car so badly, she’d climbed on top and fallen through the ragtop. I heard him shrieking and wondered what catastrophe had taken place. He tore the door open trying to get at her. She ripped by him, making a beeline for the protection of her fiberglass igloo doghouse that she had never even stuck a toe in before that day. Bud kicked at her(I hope the statute of limitations has run out on cruelty to animals)but she made it in before he connected. He got a huge bruise on his shin from kicking the doghouse. She never did get to drive.