The other day, I wrote about Runtly, the ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier, and his new found joy of experiencing carpeted floors. Having carpet is something new for us too, it has been many years since we have had carpet under our feet.
One thing about carpet is the traction it provides. Sometimes, this is not always a good thing. For instance, I had on my best, and only, pair of flip flops one day when Runtly brought a toy over and dropped it at my feet. This is a signal to either pick it up, or kick it. I chose the latter and as my foot came forward, the flip flop caught the carpet long before it got close to the toy and ripped the toe hold right out of my shoe. Having not had these flip flops for very long, I found the super glue and went to work putting the shoe back together. Luckily, this worked like a charm.
This morning I was standing in the closet trying to decide what to wear. I was giving some serious thought to donning a pair of shorts since the forecast was calling for mid 80's. Then I thought if I was going to wear shorts, I was going to have to do something else first.......shave my legs.......you ladies out there know exactly what I'm talking about. Well, I guess I did not actually have to do this, but that would have been kind of gross. While I'm having these wardrobe malfunctioning thoughts, I realized Runtly was in the closet too.
Runtly is banned from the bathroom, my work area and the closet. The reason for this is because if he can ever gain access to above mentioned rooms, he steals things and whatever it is he steals ends up in an unrecognizable shredded mess.
Every dog owner on the planet can attest to this next statement. If there is a pile of dirty clothes on the floor and in that pile is one dirty sock and one dirty pair of underwear, as far as the dog is concerned, the underwear always takes precedence. Oh yes, there is nothing more harrowing than sitting in your living room chatting with friends and looking up to see the dog enter with yesterday's gunders hanging out of its mouth.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Runtly slither out the closet door. I leaned out and sure enough, my husbands' whitey tighties were headed down the hallway. I gave chase and the game was on. Runtly would circumnavigate the couch, above mentioned article of clothing flying like a flag, and then rip and snort back down the hallway. Runtly thinks this is great fun. I was in hot pursuit and when he landed in the middle of our bed, on the fifth lap, I was sure I could grab him before he made his next move. He lunged and so did I. The unfortunate thing was, my flip flop did not follow suit.
No, it stayed glued to the carpet and as the white furry bullet shot out the bedroom door, I uttered "Oh #@%$!" because I knew I was going down.
As I laid on the floor, half in and half out of the bedroom, assessing any possible damage I may had just caused myself, I looked down the hallway. Here came Runtly, ears down, looking sad, gunders still in his mouth. He got just close enough to my hand to release his prize and proceeded to find a safe place.
When I finally got up, I knew one thing for sure. The rug burn on my knee took care of the idea about wearing shorts.
No comments:
Post a Comment