I’m busily browning some boneless pork ribs to add into a simmering pot of sauerkraut, potatoes, & beer, when there is a knock at the front door. While the dogs erupt in a series of woofs, roos, and yaps, I glance at the time. 7:45 PM. Then I glance at the door, and make out a youngish face peering back at me through the glass, could be a guy or a girl – I couldn’t really tell from the angle at which I stood.
I take a step towards the front door, hold up the universal “one minute” sign, and then glance back at the dogs. Hair on end, Leah is barking madly - sounding as if she’d like to seriously maim the person standing behind the door, if only given a chance. Toby is barking too, but he’s also eyeing me, eyeing the door, and eyeing the stove – a plan already in the works. And Meadow is standing in the hallway barking.
No wait. She’s NOT barking. I look closer, and see that she’s actually gagging. I sprint towards the hallway and realize that the dog who never barfs, is about to barf, and she’s going to do so on the only rug in the house.
What the?
Maybe it's the excitement of someone strange at the door combined with the smell of food frying on the stove (a scent which Meadow is infatuated by), but no matter the reason, the little V is about to spew right where she stands. I look around in dismay, shove the poor dog into the bathroom, and shut the door behind her.
Grabbing Leah by the collar, I head towards the front door, and then stop, remembering something. I look back at the stove. Toby’s muzzle is inches from the hot pot.
I growl “Leave-it,” and the Lab backs off. Still holding my ‘guardy girl’ by the collar, I open the interior door and together we inspect our visitor. A young man of about twenty is trying to talk over Leah’s baying – which has increased tenfold.
I glance back at the stove. Toby sees me from the corner of his eye, and he veers away from the pot with a sheepish wag - Sorry, couldn’t help myself. I turn back to the guy, and rather than hushing Leah, I talk loudly over her, “I’m sorry. I just can’t talk right now. I’m in the middle of something.”
He holds up a badge with a photo on it, which had been dangling from a lanyard he wore around his neck. Suddenly concerned, I push Leah aside and crack open the door to hear him, worried that something may have happened. Leah knows better. She continues to bark, and the guy looks down nervously at her as he says, “I’m from [such and such] and we’re trying to stop big corporations from…”
Are you kidding me?
I cut him off. “Listen, this is a really bad time.” I start to shut the storm door, and he actually looks offended that I won’t take the time to speak with him.
“But we’re trying to…”
Taking another look towards Toby, who is inching closer to the stove again, I think of the mess that must be waiting for me in the bathroom. I look back at the guy – who is STILL talking. Leah continues barking, and I don’t bother to stop her.
Instead, with a muttered apology, I slam the interior door in his face.
His eyes widen in surprise for a moment before he frowns and turns away. I race to the stove to save dinner, and then watch through the window as he walks down the path, making sure he latches the front gate. The same one he entered my property from. The one with the big “Beware of Dog” sign dangling from it.
Wagging happily because she successfully ‘chased’ off our visitor, Leah watches silently as I push the pot from Toby’s reach and release Meadow from her prison – where she had indeed emptied the contents of her stomach. As I tend to the mess, I envision how much fun it might have been to just let my hand slip out of Leah’s collar – just once. More than likely, she’d just make a lot of noise, and possibly pee. But hey, one can dream…
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