How is it that our miniature dachshund manages to create the most alarming situations in the middle of the night?
Here's the latest one....
On the night of February 13, I climbed into bed and read a while, as is my almost-nightly custom. The weather is still a bit chilly in the evenings, so I kept my terrycloth robe on while I read about lofty things like being an artist and how that relates to God. (See Madeleine L'Engle's book Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art for more on that topic. My highlighter is running out of ink from all the passages I've marked in hot pink.) After my eyelids began to droop, I returned the book to the tower of assorted publications on my night table and lay my head on my pillow.
Any lofty concepts or beautiful dreams landed with a thud a couple of hours later. I'm not sure if I awoke to the rustling near me, or if it was my husband's declaration about our Rusty: "He's stuck in your robe!"
Sure enough, there he was, stuck in the sleeve of my bathrobe. A stuffed weiner. A terrycloth-covered tube. He was one trapped dog.
What do you do to get a 15-pound muscly and scared dachshund out of the sleeve of a bathrobe? I picked him up, grabbed the edges of the fabric, and shook it gently and rhythmically to see if I could dislodge him at all. His body slid down a little, which I took as a good sign. But then there was that long snout. He kept putting his head down as he wriggled franticly. I tried snapping my fingers above his head in an effort to divert his attention and cause him to raise his head with his nose pointed up. No dice.
Sometimes you've just gotta use scissors.
Fiskars shears finally released him from his accidental prison. The newly-released prisoner ran to the back door to be let outside and then kept his leg hiked for quite a length of time. Guess that predicament really scared him.
We joked later about how Rusty just wanted to give us a stuffed animal for Valentine's Day. I know--that's horrible. If my husband hadn't woken up and realized the situation, it could have ended quite differently. But in such situations, you've got to keep your sense of humor. And then never leave a bathrobe near a dog unattended again.
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7 comments:
You can tell the true animal lovers and those who are not by what they choose to save--
...the dog...or the bathrobe.
Hehe ;)
Don't listen to her...the dog should always win! On a side note, she secretly loves Libby our Chihuahua/Dachshund mix more than she will ever admit.
A dog mama's gotta do what a dog mama's gotta do. A few years ago, my mom bought a t-shirt for Steven that says, "Dog Dad" and one for me that says, "Dog Mom." Very appropriate!
That would be so cool to have a t-shirt like that! However, I don't know if Ian would feel left out....guess he could have one too that said dog brother!
Oh, yes. There is such a thing as a dog sibling.
ALERT THE MEDIA.
They have doggie bathrobes at Target. Perhaps Rusty was trying to give you a hint. $12.99
Oh, please don't tell Judi. She'll buy him one. He *hates* to wear things. He hates baths bad enough as it is, too....
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