I love my dog
Haven't had this good of a laugh in a while. This is a true story... Some friends and I were heading out to catch a movie. Running late, I threw my dog in the back of one of their trucks and we drove down the street to grab a couple of other friends and drop the pooch off in their yard. When we get there I open the tail gate and Yeags jumps out... and as I am slamming the thing shut, he decides that he is going to TRY AND JUMP BACK IN THE TRUCK. About the time I let go of the gate, I feel my (not so intelligent) dog thud beside me and hear about the most ungodly dog screaming I have ever witnessed in my life... needless to say he didn't make it back into the truck. His back legs landed on the street next to me, and his front paw stayed under the gate. My ears are bleeding at this point from the heinous yelping going on right next to me, and it's dark out so all I can think is good lord I just chopped his freakin' hand off.
I get Yeags elevated so his body weight isn't pulling down on his wrist, and one of my friends does the cell-phone flashlight MacGyver thing so we can see the damage. I just about breathe the biggest sigh of relief because it's not caught under the gate... what the little rascal did is face plant into the gate, and then with full force of his body weight, threw his paw in between the license plate and the rear bumper... now I don't know how to say "don't make a fist" in dog speak because that would have made it pretty dang easy to ease his paw out. But of course he is on high survival alert and his hand is now tensed up to twice normal size. The yelping hasn't stopped of course, so by this point people are starting report a murder three neighborhoods away, it's so bad.
It took us 10 minutes and a few tools to get the license plate and bumper far enough apart and relax the dog to get his hand out. The whole time I was holding him up, I had smelled some poo poo under me. Figures, he shat himself, I mean I would too I guess. I looked down and saw a tiny pile of terrified glory steaming on the street right next to my foot. And I'm thinking, wow that's amazing, my dog usually drops HUGE presents when he is not scared to death, why this tiny pile now... I expected a nice half-pounder at least. So we finally get him out.... he's stopped trying to destroy our eardrums by now, and I put him down very gently to see how bad the limp is.... and what does he do? SPRINTS into my friend's yard and starts playing with her dogs like NOTHING HAPPENED... that's right, no limp, no nothing. What a little bastard. Of course I am glad he is ok regardless of repeatedly cursing his species and calling him the biggest wuss in the world. Well, at least we can finally leave and catch the movie. As I get ready to step in the truck, my nostrils tell me to look down again, and see a nice steamy half-pounder dripping its way down my pant leg
Awesome
I get Yeags elevated so his body weight isn't pulling down on his wrist, and one of my friends does the cell-phone flashlight MacGyver thing so we can see the damage. I just about breathe the biggest sigh of relief because it's not caught under the gate... what the little rascal did is face plant into the gate, and then with full force of his body weight, threw his paw in between the license plate and the rear bumper... now I don't know how to say "don't make a fist" in dog speak because that would have made it pretty dang easy to ease his paw out. But of course he is on high survival alert and his hand is now tensed up to twice normal size. The yelping hasn't stopped of course, so by this point people are starting report a murder three neighborhoods away, it's so bad.
It took us 10 minutes and a few tools to get the license plate and bumper far enough apart and relax the dog to get his hand out. The whole time I was holding him up, I had smelled some poo poo under me. Figures, he shat himself, I mean I would too I guess. I looked down and saw a tiny pile of terrified glory steaming on the street right next to my foot. And I'm thinking, wow that's amazing, my dog usually drops HUGE presents when he is not scared to death, why this tiny pile now... I expected a nice half-pounder at least. So we finally get him out.... he's stopped trying to destroy our eardrums by now, and I put him down very gently to see how bad the limp is.... and what does he do? SPRINTS into my friend's yard and starts playing with her dogs like NOTHING HAPPENED... that's right, no limp, no nothing. What a little bastard. Of course I am glad he is ok regardless of repeatedly cursing his species and calling him the biggest wuss in the world. Well, at least we can finally leave and catch the movie. As I get ready to step in the truck, my nostrils tell me to look down again, and see a nice steamy half-pounder dripping its way down my pant leg
Awesome
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