Doggone It!
Today I am posting an e-mail I received from my son, Jeremy, the other day that is just too good not to share! Enjoy!!
I am currently dogsitting (and housesitting) in Bloomington. I've told a couple of you about the dog, named Maggie, who is so old, so blind, so deaf, and so almost-dead that each time I see her sleeping I have to watch really closely to see if she is breathing (and after last night, cross my fingers and hope that she has died.)
I arrived home around 10 last night. As usual, the dog had gone to the bathroom all over the kitchen. Great. "MAGGIE!!!!" I screamed, trying to rouse her from her nap, "IT'S TIME TO GO OUTSIDE... MAAAAAGGIE!!!" She doesn't move. I wonder if she is dead. She isn't.
12 AM: I am awakened at midnight from a deep sleep by a very loud and scary, methodical noise. My first irrational thought is, "Someone has broken in. This is OK." My second thought is, "Wait a second... what is that?" My third thought is, "Maggie. Stupid Maggie." I get out of bed and stagger into the hall to find Maggie standing in the hall with her head in the closet, wheezing louder than an old man with asthma. I touch her lightly and she stops making the horrendous noise. I pull her head out of the closet and try to lead her to her bed. After about 10 minutes we make it the 10 feet and it takes her 5 minutes to lay down. I wash my hands and go back to bed.
3 AM: I begin to wake. I hear a familiar noise. Groaning... loud groaning. I throw my angry legs over the bed and stalk down the hall to find her. I find her, standing into a corner, moaning. I touch her and she jumps... I wonder if I've given her a heart attack. I sort of hope I have. I lead her back to bed, and when I get there, I notice blood on it. Ugh. She won't lie down. In fact, she walks into the kitchen and towards the door. I race ahead of her and throw it open (so she won't walk into the glass). She stumbles outside, falls down a makeshift ramp that covers the stairs, and disappears into the darkness. I fall back into bed and fall asleep.
4 AM: I awake with a cringe. A blood-curdling noise is echoing in the night. It takes me a second to gather my thoughts, and try to expel the thought of driving to Wal-Mart, buying a shotgun, sawing it off, and shooting that damn dog. I resist. The pained yowl rises again... I stick my head out the door and yell as quietly as possible... "Maggie!" It doesn't work. At this rate the neighbors will be up in no time. I suppress my rage, run to my room, grab my pants and shoes, pick up a flashlight, and run into the backyard to find the dog. The beam pierces the darkness and I find... nothing. Where is she? I fight a couple of dating bushes and suddenly there is is, TRAPPED in the bush, yowling for help. I free her and lead her inside. On the way she trips UP the ramp/stairs but successfully locates the door. Walking down the hall, she finds her bed and stands in it. I try to sleep... no luck. I hear the dog. I look down and notice she is trying to stick her head inside my shoe. Whatever.
The sun rises and I'm up... again. Maggie has found a place to sleep and is doing so quite soundly. I step over her and find my shoes. I check my left shoe before pulling it on, remembering Maggie's curiosity... I quickly check my right shoe and then do a double-take. Strange piles of unknown substance have been deposited into my $70 shoe. I suppress more rage, pick a different pair, grab my keys, and leave the house for work.
Look for more, ADVENTURES WITH MAGGIE.
Also look for, MAGGIE'S LAST STAND and MAGGIE AND THE BUTCHER
I am currently dogsitting (and housesitting) in Bloomington. I've told a couple of you about the dog, named Maggie, who is so old, so blind, so deaf, and so almost-dead that each time I see her sleeping I have to watch really closely to see if she is breathing (and after last night, cross my fingers and hope that she has died.)
I arrived home around 10 last night. As usual, the dog had gone to the bathroom all over the kitchen. Great. "MAGGIE!!!!" I screamed, trying to rouse her from her nap, "IT'S TIME TO GO OUTSIDE... MAAAAAGGIE!!!" She doesn't move. I wonder if she is dead. She isn't.
12 AM: I am awakened at midnight from a deep sleep by a very loud and scary, methodical noise. My first irrational thought is, "Someone has broken in. This is OK." My second thought is, "Wait a second... what is that?" My third thought is, "Maggie. Stupid Maggie." I get out of bed and stagger into the hall to find Maggie standing in the hall with her head in the closet, wheezing louder than an old man with asthma. I touch her lightly and she stops making the horrendous noise. I pull her head out of the closet and try to lead her to her bed. After about 10 minutes we make it the 10 feet and it takes her 5 minutes to lay down. I wash my hands and go back to bed.
3 AM: I begin to wake. I hear a familiar noise. Groaning... loud groaning. I throw my angry legs over the bed and stalk down the hall to find her. I find her, standing into a corner, moaning. I touch her and she jumps... I wonder if I've given her a heart attack. I sort of hope I have. I lead her back to bed, and when I get there, I notice blood on it. Ugh. She won't lie down. In fact, she walks into the kitchen and towards the door. I race ahead of her and throw it open (so she won't walk into the glass). She stumbles outside, falls down a makeshift ramp that covers the stairs, and disappears into the darkness. I fall back into bed and fall asleep.
4 AM: I awake with a cringe. A blood-curdling noise is echoing in the night. It takes me a second to gather my thoughts, and try to expel the thought of driving to Wal-Mart, buying a shotgun, sawing it off, and shooting that damn dog. I resist. The pained yowl rises again... I stick my head out the door and yell as quietly as possible... "Maggie!" It doesn't work. At this rate the neighbors will be up in no time. I suppress my rage, run to my room, grab my pants and shoes, pick up a flashlight, and run into the backyard to find the dog. The beam pierces the darkness and I find... nothing. Where is she? I fight a couple of dating bushes and suddenly there is is, TRAPPED in the bush, yowling for help. I free her and lead her inside. On the way she trips UP the ramp/stairs but successfully locates the door. Walking down the hall, she finds her bed and stands in it. I try to sleep... no luck. I hear the dog. I look down and notice she is trying to stick her head inside my shoe. Whatever.
The sun rises and I'm up... again. Maggie has found a place to sleep and is doing so quite soundly. I step over her and find my shoes. I check my left shoe before pulling it on, remembering Maggie's curiosity... I quickly check my right shoe and then do a double-take. Strange piles of unknown substance have been deposited into my $70 shoe. I suppress more rage, pick a different pair, grab my keys, and leave the house for work.
Look for more, ADVENTURES WITH MAGGIE.
Also look for, MAGGIE'S LAST STAND and MAGGIE AND THE BUTCHER
posted by Diane Dahlen @ 6/13/2008
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