Leave 'Em Laughing

Ellie Mae our rescue dog got skunked, and I tried to give her a bath outside because our bathtub is out of commission. I got her all lathered up but she managed to escape and left me standing there, holding her soaking collar. How was I supposed to know the sound of the water turning on would freak her out so badly? 

So what did I do?

A) I chased after her frantically, apologizing profusely every step of the way, so she would see the error of her ways and come docilely to me.

B) I explored my refrigerator for enticing treats to lure her out from under the car.

Mr. Crips: "I categorically deny all the
absurd allegations being slung my way..."

C) I implored Mr. Crips the cat to do what he does every day of the week: show off in front of Ellie Mae, in order to get her to chase him.

D) I decided that Ellie knew best and retired to the living room to watch the rest of the Giants ballgame, bong in hand.

E) Other

Though choice “D” clamored frantically for my attention, I went with “E” the ever-popular “Other,” after experimenting with A, B, and C. Chasing Mr. Crips after he stole the dog treats was having no positive effect, whatsoever.

I had paused for the cause in my efforts to extract Ellie Mae from under our little Subaru, and glanced out over the surrounding countryside, seeking answers from the gods. How could I rinse off the cocktail of dog shampoo and tomato juice from Ellie Mae’s soaking fur, if I could not even catch her? And where was the water coming from that I was going to use for the job? It sure wasn’t coming out of a hose.

The gods were most accommodating. Right in front of me, as I stood gazing out over the landscape, the shimmering water of the pond called out to me. Since Ellie traveled with me everywhere I went, I would get her to follow me down to the biggest tub on the block, where she could then go for a refreshing swim and all would be well. Maybe then I could stop feeling so guilty.

"Hy-Yo, Silver! Away!"

I moseyed up to HeadSodBuster’s spot to saddle up the quad, Ellie Mae timidly following from a safe distance.  Gunning the engine like a badass, after having thrown caution to the wind and eschewed the fire-engine-red helmet, I got ready to shift into reverse and get started. How did that go again?

Dang, I hope nobody’s watching. I can hear them, “Hey, look at goofy Mark on the quad-can’t even shift into reverse! Ha, ha!” Heck, who needs reverse? If I just sort of thread the needle among some of these lawn chairs, rose bushes and the picnic table, I bet I can just maneuver my way out onto the driveway without that stupid reverse.

If they were chuckling before, they were rolling on the ground laughing by now. Well, never mind. Always leave 'em laughing, I say. Small minds, small pleasures, and all of that.  

“Follow me, Ellie Mae!”

She did! Basking in the glow of success, I roared down to the pond, all the while remaining in first gear. I may have broken the 2 MPH threshold, but more likely-not. An eternity later Ellie Mae and I reigned up at our destination, and I dismounted. Naturally, I assumed Ellie Mae was as eager to go for a dip, as I was to see her jump in, but I was wrong.

Ellie Mae had no intention of going into the pond on her own.

“Ellie Maaaaaaaaaaaeeeeeeeee. Heeeeeeeerrrrrrrre Ellie Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaeeeee, you gooooooooooood dog. Come heeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrre.” 

She fell for it and even though I am acutely aware that you are never supposed to call your dog to you, and then betray her trust, I did it anyway. Desperate times required desperate measures. When she came to me, I gave her a big hug, gathered all 49 pounds of her gently in my arms, staggered over to the edge of the pond where the ground drops off sharply under the water, and gave her the heave-ho.

I’d like to say that she frolicked merrily in the water, easily accomplishing the desired goal of removing all shampoo and juice, but that would make me an even bigger liar than- [Editor’s note: Best avenue?] 

OK, fine. She was in the pond about the same length of time as it takes to sneeze, but it was the best I was going to get. She was submerged for at least one nano-second, but no way would she come near me again, and I didn’t blame her. I didn’t especially want to be around me either, at that moment.

It’s all over now. I’m not sure if Ellie Mae learned anything from the experience or not, but I sure did. I have since replaced the bar-b-cue I crushed, so it’s no big deal, but I learned I better figure out how to use reverse gear on the quad.