Excerpt from “Tail Wags and Whiskers”…
“…We arrived home, and I brought the dog out of the car on a leash, letting Poopsie sniff around the front yard. In moments, 3-year-old Paul burst out the front door, overjoyed, with my dad following closely behind. At that moment, Randy came home from work, cruising slowly down the driveway, looking confused by this strange spectacle on his front lawn. He got out of the car and walked over. “What do we have here?”
Patrick and Paul jumped up and down. “It’s our new dog!”
“I picked him out!” Patrick said proudly.
I did my best to avoid my husband’s quizzical stare. As I’d learn over the years, I have few natural talents, but selecting quirky-looking mutts is right up there. And yes, with Poopsie’s wide-set bulging brown eyes, snaggletooth, and wiry short-haired body, he would hardly win a beauty contest. But what can I say? I found him endearing.
Patrick glanced up at Randy, his face beaming. “Isn’t he the most beautiful dog you’ve ever seen?”
Randy shook his head. “I’ve never seen anything quite like him.”
Away from the kids my husband whispered, “I was hoping for more of a Lassie, but I guess we get what we get. By the way, there’s no way I’m calling any animal Poopsie.”
“I know. Apparently, he belonged to an elderly woman who passed away. We’ll rename him.”
Despite Randy’s hesitance over my latest choice, I felt proud. My kids had wanted a dog and I’d found one. The boys were laughing. My mom and dad were happy. The sun was shining. Even Randy started to bond with the animal, giving him lots of pats and “Atta boys!” The dog’s tail wagged. How wonderful to have a canine, I thought. So devoted, always staying close to hearth and home.
Then came the fateful moment.
Someone decided it might be fun to let Poopsie off his leash, thinking he’d enjoy exploring his new yard. For one momentous second, Poopsie stood there, untethered, glancing around as if weighing his options. Before we could fully realize what was happening, he started easing slowly toward our driveway like a shoplifter casually leaving the store, trying not to attract attention. Before our shocked eyes, he trotted up the driveway, turned a left, and disappeared.
“Did he just leave?” my mother asked.
Both boys burst into tears. Patrick wailed, “My doggie hates me!”
Dad and I hurried up the driveway, took a left, and stood on Sport Hill Road, the town’s main thoroughfare. It stood empty in all directions. The dog had vanished into thin air. We’d had him eighteen minutes…”
“Tail Wags and Whiskers” is available free on Kindle Prime.
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Pennie Nichols
I’ve often wondered what genetic or mental twist makes a dog a bolter versus the magnet. Some you can let off a leash anywhere, and they stick by you. Others just bolt.