Showing posts with label what's that smell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label what's that smell. Show all posts

Thursday, September 08, 2011

I'll Be There in a Hurry. You Don't Have to Worry

I stole this photo off of someone's FB page. I have a feeling they stole it and I have no idea if it's even real, but it's funny. So, who cares?

On Friday evening, Stinky and I were getting home from the store when some hot hipster boy was walking past our house. He was being trailed by a bulldog. He stopped us and asked if we knew the dog. He said it and another, bigger dog had been following him and he didn't know what to do. I told him I'd take him and get him some water. It could be all bulldogs, but this one looked like he was frothing at the mouth and sounded like he was having a fatal asthma attack.

I tried to walk around the neighborhood with him, to see if anyone recognized him or see if his owner was looking for him. I had to stop after the bulldog liked some older guys dog so much that the poor man had to hang up his cell phone on his mom and help me separate the two. At least I left him with an interesting story to tell his mom.

I finally got the dog set-up in the breezeway with some water and The Guy set out some cat food that he didn't touch. He drooled and wheezed out there, stressing Archie out, while I called the cops. They said someone would be out to get him as soon as they could.

Having done all I could, I went to the kitchen and started getting things ready for shrimp fajitas. Because I'm almost as nosy as Gladys Kravitz on Bewitched, I like to look out my window while I cook. Soon, I saw a man in a black car drive slowly past our house. I dropped what I was doing and ran outside to see if he just happened to be looking for an asthmatic bulldog, but by the time I got there, he had already turned. He came back again about 5 minutes later, driving even slower, so this time I made it outside in time.

"Are you looking for a dog, by any chance?"

He immediately braked, jumped out of his car and yelled,"Yes!"

I told him I had a bulldog in my breezeway (that sounds like a personal problem....) and he said, "That's Lexington. He and our other dog rushed the gate and escaped." I opened the door, and Lexington quickly waddled straight to his owner, who scooped him up, drool chains and all, and carried him to his car.

After they left, The Guy went out to the breezeway to grab the water bowl, which was pretty much all saliva at that point, and said, "Hmmm. I wonder how long it will take to get the dog smell out of there!" We both agreed that we loved dogs, but it takes an especially tolerant person to own and love a bulldog.