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Pastimes : Don't Ask Rambi -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: username who wrote (7237)	2/11/1998 10:32:00 PM
From: Rambi	Read Replies (4) \| Respond to of 71178

I'm interrupting these erudite and oh so bibliobetic posts because I have just endured a traumatic and terrifying experience and I want to share it with you, my sympatico friends, to whom I tell all, trust all, knowing that you always understand and care. I shake still with the aftereffects of adrenalin rush and my ventolin inhaler flooding my system. In my trembling grasp I hold the requisite medicinal glass of wine. I was sitting here peacefully contemplating a post to Thomas, my dear partner in parisology, paleography and pantomancy about the Greco-Roman Roots of Bawdybeerballadry when I heard loud barking coming from our backyard. Since we don't have a dog this alarmed me and I hastily rushed to the back door and looked out. Imagine my horror when I saw an enormous vicious canine, teeth bared, barking and leaping around our precious Blue Kitty! I began to yell and ran out, arms flailing. The dog attacked. He leaped up on me, nearly knocking me over with his giant muddy paws. "Goddammit!" I screamed. 364 days of the year, I have on jeans and a t-shirt. Today I had been to renew my passport and had for the sake of appearances donned a nice black dress and pantyhose. Unfortunately I hadn't stopped to put on my shoes before the rescue attempt and my feet now sported cute little mud socks, the elegant little black dress attrractively decorated by an artistic assortment of matching beige paw prints. Cursing, I tried to grab the monster's collar. I recognized our neighbor's Irish Setter. I could see a huge hole between our fences which he must have been digging for days. (I must ask if they let him watch Escape From Alcatraz recently.) "Go home, damn dog!" I screeched repeatedly, but he listened about as well as Ammo and CW and pranced joyfully around me as I courageously stood between him and the cat. "Run, Blue, Run! Save yourself!" I cried, but Blue seemed entertained by the spectacle of me dancing with a dog and was in no hurry to leave. He yawned, stretched leisurely and walked to the deck where he lay down in a relaxed manner. The dog, thrilled, tore around me and headed for Blue who never moved. I kicked the dog; I spanked his nose, I said bad things about his mother. This whole time I'm yelling at the top of my lungs for the boys, who swear they never heard a thing, and for our neighbors, whose names I couldn't remember, and thus was reduced to screaming, "Neighbor people! Help!" This went on for what felt like hours, with me wrestling this extremely happy and ebullient pooch, and trying to get Blue to go in the garage, and calling for help, and no one doing anything I asked. "THe hell with this," I finally muttered and grabbed Blue, ready to endure being clawed by a panicked cat and brutally mangled (you know how those Irish Setters can get when they're thwarted) but maybe having time to throw Blue into the safety of the garage before I collapsed. The dog rushed up and, I swear to God, kissed Blue on the nose. Blue was purring. My hose were shredded, my dress goes to the cleaners, I'm beginning to wheeze from an allergy attack, and these damn animals are lovers?? Parents are always the last to know. I marched into the house, slammed the door, put Blue down, and he rushed back to the door and began to meow piteously to go back out. THe dog came to the kitchen window and looked beseechingly in at us. I stood firm. I felt like Mrs. Capulet, but there are some relationships that cannot be.