Things My Dog ATe

Things My Dog Ate

My Dog Didn’t Eat My Homework,
He Ate My Car’s Interior

My very first car as a teenager was a 1948 Chevy tan coupe. I bought it from my neighbor for $65. I loved that car! I painted a Mickey Mouse face on the front of the hood, on each moon-style hubcap, and even on the face of the non-working clock that graced the dash board. I kept a stash of Mickey Mouse hats inside for my passengers to wear. Needless to say, the old Mickey-Mobile was very popular among my high school friends.

After much pleading and begging in my senior year, my father agreed to me let me get a completely new interior for the mouse car. Being on a limited budget, I did what a lot of Southern California kids did the 1950s:

I drove it down to Tijuana, Mexico for a super cheap upholstery job. I decided to go all out and went with tuck-and-roll seat covers and headliner.

To say the upholstery shop was primitive was an understatement. I held my breath as a crew of young Mexicans swarmed the car, ripping and tearing then sewing and installing. I watched horrified as they lit rolled-up newspapers on fire to heat the faux leather material before stretching it. But when they were finished, I yelled a loud, “Bravo!” The interior looked fabulous. I drove the car home and parked it proudly in the garage overnight.

The next morning, I noticed that Max, our Brittany Spaniel dog, was walking around the back yard with bird feathers clustered around his muzzle. The only birds of the fowl family in our neighborhood were the neighbor’s carrier pigeons. The feathers in Max’s mouth were definitely of the chicken variety. Then I heard my mother yelling in the garage.

I realized I’d left the door leading from the back yard into the garage open overnight when I raced to see what had prompted her blood-curdling screams.

The inside of the garage looked like a snowstorm had struck overnight. But it wasn’t white snow I was looking at. The inside of the car and garage floor were covered with chicken feathers. After a quick inspection, the puzzle was solved . My Tijuana upholsters had cut costs by using chicken feathers to form the rolls in the upholstery rather than more expensive foam rubber. Good old Max had torn the seat covers and headliner apart looking for those birds as any good bird-dog would do. The car went. The dog stayed. The way I was able to get rid of this car is a complete story in itself, but I’ll just say that I am really thankful that Tom from Milano’s in San Diego as his company was able to purchase the vehicle from me.

Dog Ate My

My parents never were really fond of animals. While all my friends had dogs and cats galore, my parents insisted that animals required too much responsibility and were constantly making messes. Of course, I wanted a pet of my own, but they would allow it. I won a gold fish at the county fair, and they let me keep it my room in a little fish bowl. Even though I took care of him, he went belly-up within a month. So, I was pretty much pet-less growing up as a child.

My wife, on the other hand, lived in the country and was always surrounded by farm animals and pets. To her, no house is complete without a resident dog and a cat or two. After we were engaged, she started the pet discussion hard core. Since I was not raised around animals, I bucked the idea. She was adamant and that was that. I loved her, so I had to go along with the idea.

We moved into a comfortable little townhouse after we got married. I had hoped that she would have long forgotten the pet idea; however, I was gravely mistaken. One Saturday morning when I was brushing my teeth, she announced that we were going to the local dog shelter to pick out our family pet. I was completely against the idea. A half hour later, we were on our way to see the dogs.

I figured that she would want a tiny, cutesy dog like some of the movie stars own. She could carry it in a purse carrier and I would not have to deal with it much. Again, I was wrong. She fell in love with a mixed breed that was the size of a small horse. He was all white and had black ears. He cocked his head back and forth, studying me. Then, he gave a big jump, put his paws on my shoulders and licked me right in the face. My wife was pleased that he loved me. I was disgusted with all the dog slobber I had to wipe from my face. Against my better judgment, he was adopted and on the way home with us. My wife named him Bozo.

Our lives forever changed when that dog arrived. We were told that he was housetrained, for the most part. I think they forgot to tell Bozo that he was. There were many mornings that I was greeted with a little puddle in the middle of the kitchen floor. We bought him nice chew toys, but he always preferred the television remote and my favorite slippers. He ate like a cow and made messes that were comparable. He was like walking a mad bull and he stopped at every tree along our walking trail.

He continues to brighten our days with some of his antics. I just love when he tears out the kitchen trash and digs through the clothes hamper. He has the stomach of a goat. Recently, I was getting out some treats for him and spilled them on the coffee table. Unfortunately, I had taken my phone apart and had my SD card out on the same table. Before I could stop him, he lapped up my SD card along with a bunch of treats.

My wife called the vet and he said that Bozo would just pass it. I refused to look through his business every day to find if that were true. I guess I am growing fond of the big galoot. Next time, I am just going to watch what I have next to his treats.

how you gonna eat
my favorite shoes?

I went to the nail shop to get the full package done since my boyfriend was coming in for the Labor Day weekend. I go in, sit down and start talking to the girl that always does my nails and I look over and see these two little boys playing with the cutest little puppy! It was so cute; he was white with little black spots all over his body. I immediately fell in love and asked where they got it. Their mom said her dog had them and she was looking for homes for them so of course I had to take him home. We get home and he was so loving and so playful I was so glad that I gotten him. I’m getting ready to go to dinner when my boyfriend gets there. So I’m ready and I set my heels out and put my flip flops on until it’s time to go. My boyfriend Roderick gets there, we talk, have a couple of glasses of wine, relax, then decide to go to dinner. I go grab my purse and go to put my heels on and OMG! My $200 heels are all ripped up, bitten on, and totally ruined! My boyfriend comes to see what’s up and starts laughing!

I am looking at him like he has lost his mind; he picks the puppy up and says that he looks like he is probably teething. I am ready to throw the dog out, when he starts crying and whining, Roderick puts him down and he comes over to me, all snuggling up on my feet crying. I pick him up, and he’s licking my face, kissing me, and is snuggling on my neck. Of course I calmed down, but I was still really angry.

My boyfriend says he will take me shopping and get me another pair if I will just let the little guy stay, so I give him a stern talking to about staying away from my shoes-the puppy not Roderick-and we go to dinner.

We come home hours later and I just want to relax. Roderick goes and puts some shorts and a tee shirt on and turns on the television, I go put on my nightgown and am all ready to put my slippers on and snuggle on the couch when I quickly slip them on and OMG! I am screaming at the dog! Roderick comes running in asking what he has done now.

He looks over and the dog is peeking its little head out from under the bed looking out at us as if he is wondering why I am yelling at him. Roderick looks at me and asks what is it now and I ask him to carry me to the bathroom.

He does and as I hop over to the bathtub, he sees what it is and busts out laughing! The dog has POOPED in my slippers! The dog sticks his little head inside the door and Rodrick quickly picks him up and tells him it looks like he IS IN THE DOG HOUSE!