Posts Tagged ‘Friends’

So my friend that I’ve had since I was 12 came to visit the other day.  We grew up together and got in to more trouble than either of us can seem to remember.  Well, he was visiting family not far away and he came to stay with us for a day.  He brought his 7 year old basenji/red heeler cross with him named Jetta.

We met at a park so that our dogs could meet on neutral territory, get to know each other, then walk as a pack.

Duchess is usually scared to death of other dogs and starts the nervous drooling thing, but after a brief introduction, she was pretty excited about having a new friend to play with.  Jake on the other hand acts like an idiot in public.  He goes into this hyperventilating spaz mode which is great at getting leashes tangled.

We came home and let the dogs out in the backyard to run and play together.  I just love how I happened to take this picture in the junkiest part of our backyard.

After playing outside in the heat, they were exhausted and came in to crash.  Jetta was delighted to see that we had a dog bed that met her exact specifications.

That night after the nap, Jetta came to life with vigor.  She kept getting all up in Duchess’ bidness as you can see.

And then it was time to play!  This is Duchess and Jetta doing their Godzilla vs. Mothra impression (notice the trucks below them… I imagine tiny little Japanese people screaming and running away).

Then Jetta started getting angry for some reason.  I think she’s a mogwai and isn’t supposed to be fed or watered after midnight or something.  Jake’s expression shows that he’s quite unamused by the curly-tailed dog with the chip on her shoulder.  Duchess is trying to show submission here to let Jetta know that she just wants to play.

But nope.  Jetta had made up her mind that, being a metroplex dog, she was way too good to play with these hillbillies that live in the sticks.

So the dogs went to their own areas and went to snoozing.  But the story doesn’t end there.  As we were wrapping up for the night, my friend said, “I need to get something out of my truck before you lock up.”  I said, “Okay sure” and started cleaning up and whatnot.

When he went out the front door, Jetta turned her skin inside out, transformed into a Tasmanian devil and went for the kill on poor little Oliver who was passed out cold.  I grabbed her harness to pull her off of him… and she ate my face.

I went to the ground with her so that I could pin her down and try to control those teeth that were flailing in all directions.  The Vampire Wife was laughing her head off and simply asked, “Are you okay?”  That’s when I looked up at her and she could see all the blood.  She quit laughing.

Although, the part I find absolutely hilarious is thinking about it from my friend’s standpoint when he walked in.  Dogs are passed out in such calm tranquility when he walks out the door.  He comes back in 45 seconds later to find me laying on top of his dog, clutching her in a death grip, with puncture wounds on my chin, with my face, shirt, jeans all covered in blood.

He just kinda stood there with his iPhone in his hand, completely stunned.  He just said, “….what…..happened?” with his eyebrows up as far as they can go. I still laugh every time I think about what it would be like to come back in the house to see that.

The kicker?  The next day I was the speaker for the Lions club here.  Oh well, at least telling the story of the facial wounds gave me an icebreaker to get the crowd loosened up.

So a tetanus shot later (those things hurt for days!) and a round of antibiotics, I’m all healed up.  Oh and bonus – I have a wicked cool Indiana Jones scar in the crease of my chin now!  I was all proud of it and showing the Vampire Wife and she said, “Indiana Jones has a scar on his chin?”  *sigh*

We were talking about my friend last night (he and I text through the Rangers games so that I can make fun of his favorite player and he can tell me how his guy is better than my guy blah blah blah) and the Vampire Wife said, “He should come visit more often… without Jetta.”

I agreed.

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The other night our friends from across the street came over to visit for a little bit.  They have a friendly little cat… well, I guess I should clarify.  By “having a cat” I actually mean that there is a cat that uses their house as a place to crash and get fed.  Anyway, he’s a beautiful solid grey and his fur is super soft.  I think he’s half chinchilla.

He is aptly named “Grey Kitty”.  If I’m not mistaken, their previous cat was simply named… “Kitty”.  Maybe in rebellion of the lackluster effort to name their cats I’ll start calling Grey Kitty some very long and complicated name when I see him – like Sir Tom Willery Von Shaughnessy.  Yes, I think that shall do quite nicely.

So the other night our friends walked over and Sir Tom Willery Von Shaughnessy was right behind them.  Now keep in mind none of my dogs have been around cats.  As a matter of fact, I’m not certain that they’ve ever seen one except for the one time Jake busted out the back door because Sir Tom Willery Von Shaughnessy was lounging on the back porch.  There was lots of hissing and spitting and chaos, but I think that’s all the exposure that any of our dogs have had.  Duchess has had zero contact… until that night.

Our friends came in and Sir Tom Willery Von Shaughnessy stayed a few steps back when he saw the platoon of dogs awaiting his arrival at the front door.  They came in and sat down, but as we were trying to visit, Duchess just wasn’t going to let go of the fact that there was a strange, furry, half chinchilla cat peering through the door at her.

There was a lot of huge barking going on, but by the time I got the camera Duchess had lowered the Kitty Terrorist alert down to orange from red.

You can hear my friend laughing in the background about how Duchess is making sure to stay behind me because she’s such a big chicken.  I think Sir Tom Willery Von Shaughnessy would probably whoop her behind up one side and down the other because she’s so afraid of everything and not even get a bit of slobber on his super soft chinchilla fur.

Also, speaking of kitties.  My dogblog friend Tucker lost their 17 year old cat today.  Please make sure to click that link and drop in there to offer your condolences.

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