With Cheech away again, I've had my hands full made more difficult by my entourage. Winston and Birdie are always at my side, on my lap, or under my feet. Sometimes it's a bit much, but they are loves (most days). They protect us ferociously. Winston went above and beyond the call of duty this weekend.
I finally FINALLY got to put my flowers in my beds. Wow, I could hardly wait. My spring show-offs were done and so it was time to get set up for summer. I dug and weeded, pulled and dug some more. My back hurt, my ankle was puffy (still not healed yet but I will warrior-ize GENTLY tomorrow...) lalala...all the things that happen when you spend all afternoon in positions considered rude and awkward by even the most seasoned of yogis.
Where is this going? Well my pretties, to the garden and one of my favorite animals; the toad.
We have lots of peepers, garden variety, hippity-hoppity, wart-producing toads. Today we seemed to find more than usual. I'm sure they are just waking and coming up through the mud. It's a toady thing. Well, as I dug, I uncovered a burrow. A couple popped up and scurried off.
"Well hello." I said quickly, a little startled. I chased one, played with it for a moment and let it go. I love em.
Winston and Birdie saw me jump and began to growl and snarl. Winston's hair (what little he has) raised up as he settled on his haunches; threatening violence more severe than North Korea. A third toad made its way into view. That was it. Winston-the-wonder-dog and Birdie-the-ever-wuss pawed the door open and zoomed out into the flowerbed. Nails scratched against the porch, dirt flew as Wee proceeded to chase down one of the assailants. There was vicious growling and angry slapping. We were all surprised (no one more than Winston... "What the Hell do I do NOW? "He seemed to say). when we realized that he had unfortunately caught it; a whole mouthful of toad. Of course it peed right in Win's ole dinner bin. Now his eyes are big and buggy to begin with, but throw a nice shot of toad whiz? Lemme say here and now that dogs can communicate. There was a noise almost like a gasp. At first I thought it was Birdie laughing but she was staring at him with a snarl of shock.
"You DIDN'T!"
I finally FINALLY got to put my flowers in my beds. Wow, I could hardly wait. My spring show-offs were done and so it was time to get set up for summer. I dug and weeded, pulled and dug some more. My back hurt, my ankle was puffy (still not healed yet but I will warrior-ize GENTLY tomorrow...) lalala...all the things that happen when you spend all afternoon in positions considered rude and awkward by even the most seasoned of yogis.
Where is this going? Well my pretties, to the garden and one of my favorite animals; the toad.
We have lots of peepers, garden variety, hippity-hoppity, wart-producing toads. Today we seemed to find more than usual. I'm sure they are just waking and coming up through the mud. It's a toady thing. Well, as I dug, I uncovered a burrow. A couple popped up and scurried off.
"Well hello." I said quickly, a little startled. I chased one, played with it for a moment and let it go. I love em.
Winston and Birdie saw me jump and began to growl and snarl. Winston's hair (what little he has) raised up as he settled on his haunches; threatening violence more severe than North Korea. A third toad made its way into view. That was it. Winston-the-wonder-dog and Birdie-the-ever-wuss pawed the door open and zoomed out into the flowerbed. Nails scratched against the porch, dirt flew as Wee proceeded to chase down one of the assailants. There was vicious growling and angry slapping. We were all surprised (no one more than Winston... "What the Hell do I do NOW? "He seemed to say). when we realized that he had unfortunately caught it; a whole mouthful of toad. Of course it peed right in Win's ole dinner bin. Now his eyes are big and buggy to begin with, but throw a nice shot of toad whiz? Lemme say here and now that dogs can communicate. There was a noise almost like a gasp. At first I thought it was Birdie laughing but she was staring at him with a snarl of shock.
"You DIDN'T!"
His jowls fell slightly..."I did..." his face read.
His mouth flew open (the toad's grand scheme) and he hacked. His head shook violently from side to side; and then there was foam. And I mean FOAM! There was more foam than I believe they would need to extinguish a jet liner on fire. He coughed and snorted. His eyes watered. And there was more foam. Birdie flipped him such a look.
"You are nothing short of gross. You buffoon" and went inside. The kids were so afraid that Winston had mauled the toad they ran off after it; grabbing one of my serving spoons and a Tupperware container. They were so very concernced that in a matter of minutes they were shooting it from their lacrosse sticks. I was left with my gagging, coughing pork sausage and piles of foam. It looked as thought the washing machine had spilled over on the porch. He continued to cough and wretch. Scooping him up, I tucked him in the sink and began rinsing his mouth with water. He looked up at me with the saddest eyes in the world.
"I love ya Buddy. You saved me." and I kissed his head. "I'm sorry he got you....You okay?"
He hacked but wagged just once. I carried him to the couch where he decided to sit at the other end...unheard of. But I waited. He eventually crawled over and snuggled in my lap. I patted his head and scratched his chest telling him how brave he was. He fell asleep.
In his puppy dreams he was running and yipping; to or from a giant toad? I don't know for sure. He wagged in his dream, his face twitching. "Good boy. You saved me." I whispered.
Who doesn't want to be a hero?
