Annie Sleeps Around

dalmation 2More on Annie, our foul-tempered, farting, fat, Dalmatian who only liked the neighbor kid across the street.

One of Annie’s loveliest traits was that it was impossible to keep her off the furniture. When we told the kids to go to bed, she was the first to hit the bed. Anyone careless enough to leave a bedroom door open could count on a bed partner as soon as they drifted off. A couple of houseguests were awakened by the crushing weight of a heavy, nasty, growling surprise when they didn’t shut their door securely. No featherweight, she’d heft herself on atop an unfortunate sleeper with no concern whatsoever for whomever might be occupying that bed. It was common to hear one of us yell out “Get out, Annie!” followed by a nasty tempered, low growl, then the padding of feet down the hall.

From another room, a from a muffled voice would let out a big “Oof! Annie! Get over!” There’d be some shuffling from that bed till she crowded that victim enough to get moved along.

Annie had no intention of going outdoors when we left. When she heard us making preparations to leave, she’d sneak stealthily back to the kid’s room. We turned to tables on her own day, announcing we were on our way out, making a great show of leaving, then awaiting her by the door. As soon as the door shut, she came prancing in the living room, prepared to jump on the sofa. She was mortified when she spotted us, dropped her head, and walked to the front door to be put out. It was good to get the best of her for once.

Can You Top This?

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 the other 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.

Annie’s Downfall

thEM55YA81 (2)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.  Continue reading

Annie’s Fish Hookectomy

thWe have a nice little wet-weather creek that runs along our property line, cutting through the middle of the wooded lot next door.  My kids played in the creek and in the woods all the time.  They were a few years older than Greg, our neighbor’s boy, so by the time he played there, he had Annie, our Dalmatian and other kids from the neighborhood with him. Sometimes, I think Greg was the only person Annie really liked. Continue reading

The Case of the Mysterious Spotted Dog Murder

Our life with Annie, our surly, farting Dalmatian was complicated by her partner in crime, Greg, the ever-present kid from across the street.  I use ever-present in the strictest sense.  Greg’s mom worked nights.  In a casual relationship never addressed by any of us, Greg made a beeline to our house as soon as he got home every day, hit the pantry for a snack, and let Annie out of prison.  Greg was well known for investigating our premises, keeping himself abreast of what all that was going on at our house, while he dawdled about, picking things up, questioning, “What’s this?  When did you get this?”   We’d chat about his day.  Afterwards, he and Annie would go off on a ramble, since we lived in a rural neighborhood with many large wooded areas. They were a common sight, known all over the neighborhood.

At any rate, one afternoon he and Annie stumbled on a construction site, just as a human skull was unearthed.  Naturally, the ensuing hub bub was tremendous. With law enforcement and news crews arriving, Greg and Annie managed to be front and center, part of the big story. Greg was ecstatic, carrying the news all over the neighborhood, taking full credit for the entire situation.  Anxious to milk the situation for all it was worth, Greg made a hasty trip back to our house to retrieve a gag item of my daughter’s, a dummy arm and hand intended to hang from the trunk of a vehicle, giving the impression of a body is in the trunk.

Returning to the wooded area near the site of all the excitement, Greg tossed the “arm” to Annie, initiating her favorite game of “keepaway.”  Annie burst from the woods, arm in her mouth, ripping through the yellow crime scene tape.  Greg was right behind her, yelling his head off. It was like a scene out of a Monty Python movie. Annie, no novice, at being chased by shouting strangers, headed home, dragging the incriminating arm.  Winded, she scratched at the back door, still clinging to her prize.  Shortly, she was followed by Greg and a bevy of law enforcement officers, asking to see the arm.  She’d hidden in the bedroom, reluctant to part with such a desirable prize, but I brought it out for their examination.  I was so glad not to be Greg’s parent that day.

Oh, the skull turned out to be that of a Native American who’d probably died more than one hundred years before.

https://nutsrok.wordpress.com/2015/01/25/not-quite-the-proverbial-turd-in-the-punchbowl/

https://nutsrok.wordpress.com/2015/01/21/pooping-with-brian/

Pooping with Brian

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. Continue reading