I’m really too old for this...
After wining and dining all weekend, I guilted myself into climbing onto my treadmill Monday morning….
It was a rather pathetic attempt at trying to atone for the damage I did this weekend to my waistline.
Later that afternoon, I drove over to visit my sister.
Sis was showing me the remodeling they’ve done in their house, when we happened to look out the back window and saw their 100-pound Golden Retriever,
Sis breaks into a dead run, yelling over her shoulder, “OMG! We have to catch him! He won’t stop!”
I start sprinting behind her – down the stairs – out the front door – and sure enough, there goes Cujo – running down the block, as fast as his hairy legs can take him…with Sis, two of her step-daughters, and me – chasing….
She's not kidding. This dog is not stopping.
Of course, this big hairy evil canine thinks this is all a game, and as soon as we’d get within grabbing distance, he’d take off again. ARGH!
About five houses up the street, I managed to sneak up behind him and made a desperate lunge, grabbing his collar.
Well, Cujo wasn’t going to go back to captivity willingly, so the dog drops to its knees (do dogs have knees?) and the four of us are literally dragging this mangy mutt through the grass and back to the kennel.
(He’s really not mangy…I’m just mad at him, so I’m being deliberately insulting to him on this blog as a means to extract just a tiny bit of revenge.)
And here’s where we made a critical error.
We’re one step from the gate, and Cujo gives all indications at this time that he’s quite happy to go back into his kennel…and so, we let go.
Cujo does a 180-turn and takes off. Again. Only, because he knows what lies in store for him if he’s caught, he’s running faster now. With wild abandon and only one thing on his mind – FREEDOM!
As he's running down the block, faster than ever, he turns around, and I swear I heard him say, "Suckers!!!"
Are you freakin’ kidding me??!!!??!!
We start chasing him – AGAIN – and this time, he manages to get quite a ways down the street…
…and I’m huffin’ and I’m puffin’ and I'm wheezin' and I am SO cursing this dog….
We eventually get the dog somewhat cornered, and we all lunge for him, and the next thing I know, I've tackled the dog and have him pinned to the ground in a headlock….
Cujo isn't going anywhere. Fool me once....
I whispered, “You’re mine now. You think I ENJOYED our little romp through the neighborhood??!!”
Yeah…just call me “The Hammer.”
I could have skipped the treadmill that morning.