Tuesday, May 24, 2011

The Night Sandy Mugged the Neighborhood Jackass

Strange title to be sure but there is no better way to describe it.  It's the truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God.

Every year, a wonderful neighbor (who's name shall be withheld) hosts an amazing Halloween Party.  As expected, my husband and I with a strong emphasis on the I, tend to make rather merry.  A couple of years ago we made huge jackass' out of ourselves with our choice of costumes.  I will, at this point, interject that the idea behind the costumes belonged entirely to Eric.  Really.  Honestly.  You'll have to wait though to read about this unfortunate event.  I promise to share it with you as I get closer to Halloween.

Because of this foolish and embarrassing faux pax, we decided this past holiday to dress simply as the Neighborhood Jackass'.  We purchased donkey ears, tails, teeth, and wore white t-shirts clearly labeled, Mrs. and Mr. Jackass respectively.  Easy and appropriate to be sure.  Also, due to some personal issues for the usual hostess, we also offered to host the party.

After the party had ended, I decided to walk someone home who had more to drink than I had.  Impossible?  One would think so, but no.  She trotted past the donkey and won the race well earlier in the evening.  So we set off, a stumbling ass holding up a cackling witch dressed in black and purple trying to get four doorsteps and one empty street away.  We made it, just barely.  Until she opened her front door. 

Now, I believe I've mentioned how awful my two little dogs are, Tank and Tulip.  They need serious behavioral training.  My pets jump on people when guests enter my home, chew on shoelaces, bark, etc., but they're small.  They can be pushed aside with a leg and ignored if necessary.  My Witchy Poo friend's dog, not so easy.  The beastie is a big cross between a poodle and a sheep dog.  There's probably a pure breed name for it but I have no clue.  All I know is that she's huge, strong, and that when she's stranding on her hind legs she can place her paws on my shoulders.  The dog's name is Sandy.  She's a very naughty dog but sweet in her own funny way.

Now imagine, if you will, a drunk jackass walking into her domain with a long tail waiving in her face.  It's like handing her a living, walking "toy-toy" for her own personal enjoyment.  My donkey tail was wrapped tightly around my waist with a strong piece of Velcro underneath my t-shirt.  The moment Sandy the Dog saw the waiving tail, she grabbed it in her mouth and took off for the family room.  I'm a big girl.  I would never have thought that the Velcro was so strong and the dog was so powerful that she could pull me like a rag doll along the wooden floors, down the hallway, and into the family room with my Witchy Poo friend screaming like a drunken lunatic for Sandy the Dog to let me go.  There was no escaping the ordeal.  I was on the other end of a Tug-O'-War game and losing badly.  At every tug, Sandy the Dog was gaining momentum while I was trying to pull back and release the Velcro. I could feel my belly bruising at every tug yet I was laughing, snorting, and crying at the same time.  I couldn't believe, yet again, the predicament I was in while my friend, Witchy Poo, was jumping up and down in a wild and weird dog owner frenzy.

Sandy the Dog finally grew tired of the Tug-O'-War game and had her eyes on a more interesting "toy- toy", the donkey ears wiggling around on my head.  With a great leap, she placed a powerful scratch down the side of my face, grabbed my ears, and took off with a bound.  A crazy drunkin' chase ensued.  Bodies falling face down, hysterical laughter, lamps overturned, a big, silly dog barking and jumping over us. 

Success!  Donkey ears finally recovered, one broken in half and the tuft of hair on top missing but still out of Sandy the Dog's mouth.  Time for Jackass to finally go home.

An hour an a half later, as I walked in the front door, Eric looked rather concerned.  I was holding a limp soggy tail, my donkey ears were broken, and I had a long, bloody scratch down the side of my face.

"Are you ok?  What happened?!"

"I was mugged."

"What?!"

"Sandy The Dog mugged me but I'll be ok."

I saw Sandy the Dog yesterday pulling her owner, my dear friend (Witchy Poo) down the street.  I stopped my car and said hello and the dog came bounding up to my window like we were old friends.  And you know what, we are.  I love that Damn dog! 


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