How was YOUR day?

Discussion in 'The Lighter Side' started by groverglock, Jul 26, 2004.

  1. groverglock

    groverglock Guns & Hoses

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    Mar 4, 2002
    We have a fox terrier by the name of Jasper. He came to us in
    the summer of 2001 from the fox terrier rescue program. For
    those of you, who are unfamiliar with this type of adoption,
    imagine taking in a 10 year old child whom you know nothing
    about and committing to doing your best to be a good parent.
    Like a child, the dog came with his own idiosyncrasies. He will
    only sleep on the bed, on top of the covers, nuzzled as close to
    my face as he can get without actually performing a French kiss
    on me. Lest you think this is a bad case of 'no discipline,' I
    should tell you that Perry and I tried every means to break him
    of this habit including locking him in a separate bedroom for
    several nights. The new door cost over $200. But I digress.

    Five weeks ago we began remodeling our house. Although the cost
    of the project is downright obnoxious, it was 20 years overdue
    AND it got me out of cooking Thanksgiving for family, extended
    family, and a lot of friends that I like more than family most
    of the time. I was assigned the task of preparing 124 of my
    famous yeast dinner rolls for the two Thanksgiving feasts we did

    I am still cursing the electrician for getting the new oven
    hooked up so quickly. It was the only appliance in the whole
    darn house that worked, thus the assignment. I made the
    decision to cook the rolls on Wed evening to reheat Thurs am.
    Since the kitchen was freshly painted, you can imagine the odor.
    Not wanting the rolls to smell like Sherwin Williams latex paint
    #586, I put the rolls on baking sheets and set them in the
    living room to rise for 5 hours. After 3 hours, Perry and I
    decided to go out to eat, returning in about an hour.. An hour
    later the rolls were ready to go in the oven.

    It was 8:30 PM. When I went to the living room to retrieve the
    pans, much to my shock one whole pan of 12 rolls was empty. I
    called out to Jasper and my worst nightmare became a reality.
    He literally wobbled over to me. He looked like a combination
    of the Pillsbury dough boy and the Michelin Tire man wrapped up
    in fur. He groaned when he walked. I swear even his cheeks
    were bloated.

    I ran to the phone and called our vet. After a few seconds of
    uproarious laughter, he told me the dog would probably be OK,
    however, I needed to give him Pepto Bismol every 2 hours for the
    rest of the night. God only knows why I thought a dog would
    like Pepto Bismol any more than my kids did when they were sick.
    Suffice it to say that by the time we went to bed the dog was
    black, white and pink. He was so bloated we had to lift him
    onto the bed for the night. Naively thinking the dog would be
    all better by morning was very stupid on my part.

    We arose at 7:30 and as we always do first thing; put the dog
    out to relieve himself. Well, the darn dog was as drunk as a
    sailor on his first leave. He was running into walls, falling
    flat on his butt and most of the time when he was walking his
    front half was going one direction and the other half was either
    dragging the grass or headed 90 degrees in another direction.
    He couldn't lift his leg to pee, so he would just walk and pee
    at the same time. When he ran down the small incline in our
    back yard he couldn't stop himself and nearly ended up running
    into the fence. His pupils were dilated and he was as dizzy as
    a loon. I endured another few seconds of laughter from the vet
    (second call within 12 hours) before he explained that the yeast
    had fermented in his belly and that he was indeed drunk. He
    assured me that, not unlike most binges we humans go through, it
    would wear off after about 4 or 5 hours and to keep giving him
    Pepto Bismol.

    Afraid to leave him by himself in the house, Perry and I loaded
    him up and took him with us to my sister's house for the first
    Thanksgiving meal of the day. My sister lives outside of
    Muskogee on a ranch, (10 to 15 minute drive). Rolls firmly
    secured in the trunk (124 less 12) and drunk dog leaning from
    the back seat onto the console of the car between Perry and I,
    we took off. Now I know you probably don't believe that dogs
    burp, but believe me when I say that after eating a tray of
    risen unbaked yeast rolls, DOGS WILL BURP. These burps were
    pure Old Charter. They would have matched or beat any smell in
    a drunk tank at the police station. But that's not the worst of
    it. Now he was beginning to fart and they smelled like baked
    rolls. God strike me dead if I am not telling the truth! We
    endured this for the entire trip to Karen's, thankful she didn't
    live any further away than she did.

    Once Jasper was firmly placed in my sister's garage with the
    door locked, we finally sat down to enjoy our first Thanksgiving
    meal of the day. The dog was the topic of conversation all
    morning long and everyone made trips to the garage to witness my
    drunken dog, each returning with a tale of Jasper's latest
    endeavor to walk without running into something. Of course, as
    the old adage goes, "what goes in must come out" and Jasper was
    no exception. Granted if it had been me that had eaten 12
    risen, unbaked yeast rolls, you might as well have put a
    concrete block up my behind, but alas a dog's digestive system
    is quite different from yours or mine. I discovered this was a
    mixed blessing when we prepared to leave Karen's house. Having
    discovered his "packages" on the garage floor, we loaded him up
    in the car so we could hose down the floor.

    This was another naive decision on our part.. The blast of
    water from the hose hit the poop on the floor and the poop on
    the floor withstood the blast from the hose. It was like
    Portland cement beginning to set up and cure. We finally tried
    to remove it with a shovel. I (obviously no one else was going
    to offer their services) had to get on my hands and knees with a
    coarse brush to get the remnants off of the floor. And as if
    this wasn't degrading enough, the darn dog in his drunken state
    had walked through the poop and left paw prints all over the
    garage floor that had to be brushed too.

    Well, by this time the dog was sobering up nicely so we took him
    home and dropped him off before we left for our second
    Thanksgiving dinner at Perry's sister's house. I am happy to
    report that as of today (Monday) the dog is back to normal both
    in size and temperament. He has had a bath and is no longer
    tricolor. None the worse for wear I presume. I am also happy
    to report that just this evening I found 2 risen unbaked yeast
    rolls hidden inside my closet door.

    It appears he must have come to his senses after eating 10 of
    them but decided hiding 2 of them for later would not be a bad
    idea. Now, I'm doing research on the computer as to:

    "How to clean unbaked dough from the Carpet."

    And how was your day?