I’m not sure if you knew this, but dogs can be hazardous to your health. Well, certain dogs can, at the very least. This story gets filed under he “it could only happen to us” category, but I hope that it amuses you as much as it did me.
There are a few things you need to know as I set this story up. My husband works in the field of law enforcement and he’s one of those “trust no one” kinds of guys. I’m pretty sure that’s his life motto. In the time I’ve known him, I’ve seen him stalk his sisters on their first dates (until the entire family got in on the conspiracy to throw him off about the true locations his sisters were going to with their new suitors), refuse to use public restrooms except under the most extreme emergencies and have an almost phobic reaction to having his picture posted here on the blog or anywhere public.
Bunny has made some comments about the car Mr. Taleteller drives, calling it a hoop-dee that is beneath her station in life to ride in. The thing is held together with duct tape and chicken wire and it doesn’t have many miles left before it goes to the junk yard in the sky, but for now it serves its purpose, which is mainly to get my husband and Küster to training and call outs. We are hoping to have most of our bills, save our house payment and monthly expenses paid off by the end of this year. and if the hoop-dee can hold out until we’re in a position to be able to afford another car payment, then it’s earned its place in the big parking lot beyond.
Unfortunately, a pulley broke off in the engine that rendered the hoop-dee unusable, so we called the local garage to fix it for us. The hoop-dee can’t be locked, and the last time we had a car at this particular garage, someone stole our insurance card out of it. So, my husband took everything that wasn’t bolted down out of his hoop-dee to prevent a similar fate. We can’t have his SAR stuff or Küster’s toys being stolen. So, everything from the hoop-dee wound up in a pile inside the garage while we waited for the hoop-dee to be resuscitated and back in business.
Monday night, my husband started doing turn out. He took Bunny and Flattery out the back door. Flattery is an incurable busybody and she headed right out into the garage to give the pile of stuff a thorough sniffing. To turn on a light inside the garage, you have to walk to the center and pull a string, so we rarely bother with turning it on when we go out at night. The light in the hallway is enough for us to see what we need to see anyway.
So now, imagine that Flattery, our little black shadow, disappears into the pitch black garage as my husband stands in the hallway putting Bunny’s leash on. Then, he hears a stranger talking in the garage. My husband went into Morgan mode, rushing into the garage to confront the intruder as Flattery rushed out of the garage to get away from the intruder. I’m surprised that neither of them ended up with broken bones. No doubt my husband was cursing the fact that he hadn’t taken Morgan out first as he’d wanted to do, but was thwarted when Flattery planted herself by the back door and refused to budge. No intruder would be happy to meet the business end of Morgan in our dark garage or anywhere else, and she’d feed off my husband’s sense of danger to the nth degree.
However, as he looked around, ready to cold cock someone who was in a place where they shouldn’t be, he couldn’t find any hint of the interloper. He turned on the light and saw only the pile of stuff he’d brought in from his car. Upon closer investigation, he found a single wet nose print on his Jabra. A Jabra, for those who don’t know, is a device you can use in your car so you can talk hands free on your phone if someone calls you. When you press the button, it will tell you to “say a command” in a very clear and distinct voice. As realization hit him, he staggered back to the hallway, and managed to get the girls outside to go to the bathroom.
Then, he stumbled inside and collapsed in a chair, informing me that he had come close to having a “grabber.” I asked him what he was muttering about, and he shared his near death experience that had almost resulted in him having a heart attack and dying on the spot. I am fairly certain that there will be no convincing him to ever leave the house without triple checking the locks and windows at this point. I don’t mind telling you that I laughed so hard over this story that I almost had my own heart attack. One thing is for sure, having Flattery around is definitely a constant source of amusement.