Good Samaritans on the Rampage

The doorbell rang at 10:00 last night. I had forgotten that we have a doorbell, frankly.

It was the neighbor, Lupe, and her granddaughter Miranda. They are lovely and thoughtful and were simply telling me that the dome light was on in my car, thus saving me a dead battery today.

However. When the doorbell rings it sends our two dogs into an absolute frenzy. The kids were asleep. Chas was asleep. I was watching TV and bolted out of the chair.

“Hi? Just a minute!” I yelled through the window of the front door. Lupe and Miranda could hear the howling and yapping of The Demon Dogs, who were not the least bit interested in getting into their crate so I could open the door. Of course not. But at least they were far away, over by the bay window, when I opened the door --

“Hola,” I said, as Wally shot between my feet through the doorway and out into the night.

“Hi Laurie,” said dear Miranda, speaking for her grandmother. “The light is on in your --”

“Just a second, honey -- WALLYYYYYYYYY!” I called frantically, knowing it’s useless to call any kind of hound when his nose is busy (and it’s ALWAYS busy). As I hustled past them onto the lawn, sock-footed, Miranda kept on, undaunted: “-- in your car, so we wanted to tell you, so . . .”

“Thank you so much!” I enthused, distracted by the whuffling beagle I was trying to outsmart by pretending not to give chase. Wally had rounded the front of the house, headed for the pitch black back yard and then . . . THE PASTURE. If Wally got to the pasture there’d be no catching him tonight. “Wally, c’mere boy,” I called weakly, hoping not to spook him. Miranda suddenly understood my distraction.

“C’mere, Wally!” she called brightly. And do you know, that dog -- who has never come when he’s called, EVER -- trotted calmly up to Miranda for pats and scratches? I scooped him up as nonchalantly as I could manage, and thanked Lupe and Miranda profusely for everything, then carried the still sniffing Wally into the house and bolted the door.

A dead battery wouldn’t have been so bad, would it?

Comments

[foolery]

Thanks, Cheeky. Coincidentally, Im in sock feet now, too. The heels are put away for my next cow-chasing adventure.

[Chesapeake Bay Woman]

OK, so this marks the first story on my Foolery Favorites list that doesn't involve you in high heels. Sock feet is close, though.

[foolery]

Pretty sure Wally would do almost anything, Debbie, to get out to play. Id let him, but hed go 10 miles in search of a scent, and we have WAY too many scents criss-crossing this property!

[Debbie]

I have to agree with Daryl. Boring old dead battery stories are getting old.

Why do dogs do that? Giggle.

[foolery]

Thanks Daryl! Havent written in a while and it unexpectedly came pouring out of my fingers and all over the keyboard.

[Daryl]

This funny post is a lot better than any story a dead battery could prompt.