It was a dark and stormy night...
NO - wait a minute - it was a beautiful and sunny day.
We arose somewhat late as there was a huge band competition we were in charge of the day before as that day began at 0630 hours and ended at 2100 hours. Needless to say, we were dog tired which brings me to the near-crux of the story.
One of our neighbors was away for the weekend so pop took it upon himself to go get into his garage to use his air compressor to air up the tire on the neighbor's truck we borrowed from him in his absence without his permission...Okay - so THAT'S not entirely true - the neighbor is one of
pop's "underlings" (for lack of a better word) at work - he also happens to be the son-in-law of the owner of the company pop has worked for for the past nearly seven years and as it is with good neighbors - what's theirs is ours and vise
versa.
FLASH FORWARD!
Nobody has seen Sampson (
Smoshmon to me) all day - for those of you who do not know the
Smoshmon - he's the big dog about the hill - all ten or seven pounds of him - we saved him from his owners when we moved into this house - he was SUPPOSED to be a pug/pom mix, but he looks more like a
bigheaded chihuahua - mostly because pop ran over his hind end with the suburban when he was but a few months old - the front of him kept growing while the rear was stifled...first "oh boo"...
our other dog - Fred (Ferdie to me) - whose HEAD,
btw, was run over by pop when he was about the same age...second "oh boo"...kept barking ALL DAY LONG today - pop told me earlier in the day that the last time he'd seen
Smoshie was when he was taking the industrial sized
bbq to the
carwash to give it a thorough cleaning. I'm now sure that Ferdie is worried about his sidekick,
Smoshie.
It was a sure thing -
Smoshmon had probably followed them all the way out to the highway and the rest of him had been run over in an attempt to catch his mind end up with his rear end. Yup, he'd finally kissed his own arse goodbye - in my mind i thought, "is that what he gets for chasing anything with four big wheels?"
I called him when i was in the garden, when I was burning brush, when I had a snack (which we spell out - S-N-A-C-K) because he knows what a "snack" is but if we spell it out it perplexes him. No
Smoshie in sight...heavy sigh...
So now the
entawr family is pretty sure we're never going to see the little guy with the big '
tude again. I'm moping around outside and keep hearing this tiny howling sound for a couple of hours and think there's a poor little dog in trouble somewhere - my brain is telling me that I'm just mourning for the
Smoshmon and hearing things.
Awhile later it becomes more than just a hallucination and I begin following the sound, up the hill I meander - getting closer to the sound, thinking, "WHAT IF pop shut the neighbor's garage door when he BORROWED the air compressor and the
Smoshmon has been inside the garage for the past TWELVE HOURS?!?"
I open the garage door in question and THE
SMOSHMON comes flying out like a bullet, running, jumping, and whimpering - pretty sure since I'm the first one he sees that I MUST be the one who shut the door on him in the first place - HE WON'T COME NEAR ME!
...oh boo...
POP IS
STILL HIS FAVORITE PERSON!
...oh boo...
See if i EVER let him out of the neighbor's garage again...oh boo...
