Suddenly *Not So* Single Journey

You’d think I was sponsored by Febreeze…

Author: thenicknick

So, when last we left, I had been having a lovely day.  Then, there was a knock on the door.

me: Come in!

It was Ed.

Ed: Um.  I just need to warn you.  Laura’s a little upset right now.  Bishop…

And at this point I start glancing about wondering where the not so little hellion was.

Ed:…ate our dinner and our breakfast and a pound of butter.

me: Oh goody.

HE had joined the conversation by now and we rushed from the house to discipline the puppy cow.  See, Bishop has learned how to open levered doors and just kind of muscle his way in.  (He currently stands 33 inches at the shoulder, just over 7 months old.)  So, if the door isn’t locked, the house is fair game.  And the thing about Ed and Laura’s house is that there’s always something there out in the open for him to munch on.  It could be a living room full of Girl Scout cookies.  (Poor, Laura.  She was cookie mom this year.)  It could be industrial sized bags of gourmet hot chocolate mix.  Or, in this case, it could be a bucket of chicken, a dozen bagels, Bailey’s left over Olive Garden bread sticks and chicken alfredo, and three sticks of butter.

So, HE dragged him back to the house after the whole ‘no this is bad’ by the front door.  And I followed, sometimes pushing, which made HIM a bit annoyed and Ed chuckled.  We made it as far as the bedroom, closing in on his kennel when my worst fear was realized.

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that what he ate and as quickly as he ate it, wasn’t going to mix well.  Sure enough, he hurled.  And I couldn’t believe what came out.  Part of it was the sheer quantity.

HIM: Is that a whole thigh?

me: Ummm, I’m thinking a breast.

HIM: How did he even swallow that?

me: Apparently whole.

So, HE took the puppy-cow outside while I pushed up my sleeves and got to work on the mess.  It was a two part job, since clean up isn’t enough.  I then had to work on odor removal.  Who wants to sleep in  room that reeks of regurgitated chicken?  Febreeze to the rescue.

The cow was crated and we went out to make our apologies.

me: Would it make you feel any better if I told you I was up to my elbows in puke?

Laura: It would.

And soon we were engrossed in a discussion over how to remedy the problem.  The men didn’t like our suggestions.

me: We could keep him on a leash.

Somehow, despite the fact that this is the law, the suggestion is regarded as crazy talk.  Instead, the men are discussing latch systems and doors and all kinds of things, completely oblivious to the ideas Laura and I were sharing or the ideas of theirs that we were nixing.  And it didn’t bother me one bit.

Laura: I just want to be able to be in my house without that cow wandering in.

me: And I just want to not have to be on clean up after he wanders in.

I’m not sure they ever really reached a solution.  I am sure, however, that the door Laura purchased the very next day for HIM to install will not exactly be the solution.  It did, however, give her an excuse to get the new door she’s been talking about forever.  All is not lost.

Fast forward to Sunday.  Ahhh.  Sunday funday.  That’s what we call it.  Only, our routine of an amazing breakfast of bacon and eggs will not be coming to fruition since the oven has not been moved.  And all we have to look forward to after completing a bunch of chores is an afternoon spent watching Alice in Wonderland. We were on a bit of a time schedule…so, I woke Rachel up at the late hour of 10am.

And Rachel came out, made a bowl of cereal, and ate.  Bishop was running around playing, so excited to see one of his kids.  Keenan had played with him earlier.  A short while later, we notice that Bishop is really engrossed in one of his toys.  And then Rachel screamed.

Rachel: George!  Oh, George!

Some of you may remember George as the bear that Rachel was given the day of her surgery.  He went with her and Noodles into the OR.  And then he went with her while we spent the night at Danny and Makenzie’s.  Needless to say, George was pretty special.

Now, George needs his own surgery.  A facial reconstruction is in order.  He lost both of his eyes, since that’s what Bishop goes for first.  And one ear is a bit worse for the wear.  He reeks.  More Febreeze.  I should start buying that stuff at Sam’s Club since I seem to be going through it like water.  He has enough face left to replace one eye.  How are we going to remedy the fact that one eye is completely unsalvageable?  George is getting a patch.  Arg.

And the thing is…we couldn’t be upset with Bishop on this one.  He didn’t break in.  Rachel left the door wide open with George sitting on the bed like a present.  All that was missing was the bow.

Yup.  We’re not just training the puppy, we’re training the kids.  Hard to say who is going to tow the line first.

Quick Karma:

• come up against big challenges
  

This entry was posted on Monday, March 8th, 2010 at 5:43 am and is filed under Bishop tales, Reflections. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.