Gird your loins!

So I climbed off my couch the other night and decided it was time to hit the hay.

It seems like as I get older I am unable to stay conscious once I get supine and cozy.

Actually, I have always been this way.  Just ask my roommate from 30 years ago.

It takes me approximately four days to watch a two hour movie, as the minute I get comfortable I nod off and need to start over.

So the drill is I sleep on the couch for three hours and THEN go to bed.

My kids claim I only made it to the START-UP menu  for “The Devil Wears Prada” one night and  they were subjected to the Stanley Tucci character yelling , “Gird your loins!” on loop for two hours straight until they eventually came and shut it off.

(Now you need to rent the movie to see if he really says that!)

But that’s another whole subject entirely….

Anyway, my plan was to let the pup out the front door to tinkle and then climb into the sack.

I opened the door and as it was raining and didn’t want to get wet , I decided to just stand in the doorway and wait for her to do her doody. (yes, I meant to spell it that way)

Because she is nuts and loves to frolic, this is not something I would attempt during the day, as she would bound away and I would have to follow her.

Considering I was in my jammies and sock feet obviously this would be less than optimal, but since it was extremely cold and wet I figured I would be okay. (Normally she usually doesn’t like the dew on her delicate little bum any longer than necessary)

I was wrong….

She finished her business and immediately looked over her tiny shoulder and made a run for it.

As my front lawn is next to my driveway, she bolted for the undercarriage like a chicken fleeing from the farmers ax and peered at me from the darkness just out of arms reach.

“Doggone it, you little turd!” “Get in the house!”  “Right now!”, “Get in here!”

All of which translated into puppyeze as “You can’t catch me!”, “I don’t care what you want!”, “Bring it on Chica!” and “You’re an idiot!”

Unfortunate…

Since I was dressed for bed and had not planned for this dire situation I did the only thing I could think of.

I went to get my golf club.

As my Daddy was an avid golfer I had somehow procured an old 5 iron of his which is in my closet for possible future robber beatings, I figured this would be the perfect tool for puppy extraction.

So there I am, on my knees, in the rain, in my pajamas, freezing cold, trolling for this little black and white terror with my Dads' Spalding golf club and what crosses my mind is, “What are my neighbors thinking?”

“Dear, come over here and look at what that crazy lady across the street is doing!”  “Who would go outside in this rain?”  “Does she have on PAJAMAS??”  “Why would someone swing a golf club under a car?”  “We always knew she was nuts!”  “Just look at her lawn!”

Whatever……

Eventually, I was able to extract the little cretin and as luck would have it she had rubbed her bony back against some oily junk under the car and cast a strong resemblance to Pepe Le Pew. 

Really????

This required extensive puppy washage and of course the pajamas were a goner.

And predictably after the ensuing mayhem and clean up session, I’m now wide awake.

And the puppy wants out to go potty.

Fat chance girlfriend….

…..I’m just sayin’