AKA: I might need to pay more attention to my dog…
So I just have to share with you guys what Harley (our dachshund /terrier mix) pulled a couple of weeks ago that had me screaming – loudly.
It was a Tuesday evening, and just like most other Tuesday evenings, my husband left after dinner to get to bowling league, which meant that I immediately snuggled up in front of my keyboard for some serious and uninterrupted writing time.
And usually, both Scooter and Harley come hang out in the home office with me – one under my desk (and underfoot) and the other lounging on the dog bed to my left.
Except for this particular Tuesday. This night, I am sitting at my keyboard, completely in the zone – the words are flowing. I am only vaguely aware of where my furbabies are in the house only because I hear Harley growl at Scooter from somewhere behind me – and Harley growling is not common, at all. But like I said, I was in the zone, so, I pretty much dismissed it.
Silly, silly me…
At a pivotal point in my writing, I grab my cup to take a drink, and realize – I am completely out of Diet Mountain Dew…. Which anyone who knows me will tell you is NOT a good thing. So, I save my work, pick up my cup, push back from the keyboard, and turn to walk out of my office and down the hall to my kitchen to remedy my empty cup situation. I feel it’s important to mention that at the time this is happening I am wearing my reading glasses (for computer work) and NOT my regular glasses – and I am nearsighted.
Except I cannot leave my office. Because Harley, bless his little pointed head, has caught and killed and brought through the doggy door and into my home what to my blurry far-off vision sure does resemble some sort of rodent…. and he has stationed it between me and the only exit out of the room.
I. Am.Trapped.
And anyone who knows me will also tell you – I am scared to death of rodents. To death. Petrified by them – and alive or dead makes no difference whatsoever. I can handle bugs, spiders, even snakes. But rodents? Nope. I’m out.
So, I did what any sane, rational human with an unfortunate phobia would do – Yep, that’s right. I called my husband, frantic, and begged him to come home (a 15-minute drive, by the way) and get rid of the creepy uninvited guest in my sanctuary.
Once he got done laughing at me, his initial response was, “Honey, I’m sure it’s a mole. Just grab the broom and dustpan.”
To which I replied, “You mean the broom and dustpan that are in the kitchen – past where this furry carcass is?”
Cue more laughter.
He got hung up on, and I called my sister, who recognized the depth of my terror, and said, “Can you go out the window and go back in through the front door?”
Sadly, the answer was no.
I mean, I could have tried to go through the window – I’m extremely out of shape so that would have given the neighbors a good laugh – but even if I did manage to make it out the window in one piece – the garage door was down, the front and back doors locked. And my keys? In my purse, on the kitchen table.
At this point, I’m trying my best not to hyperventilate, and my sister, God bless her, is literally talking me through regulating my breathing, like I’m in labor or something.
The end of this story goes like this – I spend twenty minutes (no, you didn’t misread that) on the phone with the best sister on the planet before I finally work up enough courage to race past the dead thing on my floor and out the office door. I closed it firmly behind me, trapping both Harley and his dead prize inside. I had to, otherwise he’d have picked the darn thing up and followed me around with it, and then, ladies and gentlemen, ya’ll would have been getting emails from me from the loony bin. Just sayin.
Did I get any more writing done before hubby came home three hours later and got that thing out of our house? NO.
For the record, hubby did confirm it to be a mole…
Once I started speaking to him again, that is…
I do have to say though, that looking back (and especially now, writing it out) – that the whole thing was kind of funny – you know, in hindsight, after I survived it – and will probably end up in one of my books somewhere…
And that’s been my great adventure lately!
(obligatory picture of the Great Mole Hunter below)
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