Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Good News, Bad News

Good news. Bad news. Hillbilly Mom edition.

GOOD NEWS: On the way to school this morning, we saw 5
black puppies scampering across the low water bridge on the
county road. One dived over the side, two stayed put, and two
ran back across to the other side. We called HH to see if we
could have one if they were still there on the way home.
He said ONE.

We crossed the bridge on the way home. No puppies in sight.
Then one ran out of the weeds to the edge of the road. #1 son
said he wouldn't hold it. He wanted to go home and get the pet
carrier. That took about 10 minutes, because the boy fiddled
and faddled before loading the pet carrier.

BAD NEWS: We went back, parked in sombody's field, since
the road there is almost one-lane, and looked for the puppies.
Not a one was seen or heard. No rustling, no whimpering,
nothing. They disappeared into thin air, after being there for
10 hours today. DOGGONE it! I had my heart set on a puppy.
As #2 told HH when we got home, "And I promised Grizzly
I'd bring him a puppy."

GOOD NEWS: HH has been waiting for months for one of his
Case Knife Collector Trucks. He has a whole set. Every year
they send out a new one to members of this 'club'. This year,
he didn't get one. A couple days ago, he got a postcard saying
they had left the zip codes off some of the notices, and if he still
wanted one, to call. HH did. He was excited that he could still
get one.

BAD NEWS: HH went to pay for repairs on his 1980 Oldsmobile
Toronado (pimp car) this evening. #1 was in his room, and #2
was watching TV in the living room. I was in my basement lair.
I went upstairs to give #2 some Tylenol Cough and Cold, and
stepped out on the porch. Doggie Ann was in the front yard
amidst a pile of trash, happily munching away. I called #1 out
to see what his dog had drug out of the neighbor's yard now.
*****It was HH's Case Knife Collector Truck. *****

#1 son said he had heard UPS drop off something on the porch.
HH's older son, in Iraq, has been having packages sent here.
Don't ask me why. It's too long a story. I do not like the whole
set-up. Anyhoo, we have been getting a couple packages a
week left on our porch. We bring them in when we get home.

Apparently, Doggie Ann saw this one and thought, "How sweet!
My people have ordered me a new chewy thing! I love them
OH SO MUCH, even if they DID run over my brother. I shall
have a heyday with this new chewy thing! It's so much better
than that old bag of moldy potatoes!"

She had chewed through the cardboard shipping box, the inner
box with the nice (formerly nice) picture of the truck, and had
taken out the certificate of authenticity, the knife itself in its own
small box, the packing slip, and some bubble wrap. Not one
to go for the appetizers, our Ann was chomping away on that
truck inside the plastic thingy that holds it in the box. You know.
So it won't get damaged during shipping.

#1 son grabbed the truck, gasping "It's Dad's collector truck!!!"
The dog frolicked about, OH SO HAPPY that we had come
to play with her new chewy. I was NOT SO HAPPY. I put
the chewed-up box to her nose, and shouted NO and BAD
DOG. She slunk away. I thought she had learned a lesson.
Then I turned and saw her snatch up a piece of bubble wrap
and take it up on the porch for dessert.

I told #1, "If we had only brought her a puppy, she would have
been playing with him."

And #1 replied, "She would have eaten him."

2 comments:

scrapper said...

How did HH take he news? Is Ann still hiding under the porch? *G*

Hillbilly Mom said...

Scrappy,
HH took it pretty well. On the phone, I told him she had chewed through the box, and the knife was lying 15 feet away. He was happy that the knife and truck did not have teeth marks or scratches. If I had not softened the blow, he would have been mad. He saves the boxes and everything. Not this one. I caught Doggie Ann just in time, before she got through to the metal. I don't know why I walked out on the porch. I usually don't go out there in the evening. Right place, right time for me to catch her.