Subject:
DOGGIE HUMOR: Best read
aloud
Jasper and
the Unbaked Yeast Rolls
Those of you who have animals will probably appreciate this the most. It is a
story that is hilarious in itself and the person who wrote it is a good writer
and made the story even better. Enjoy...
We have a fox
terrier by the name of Jasper. He came to us in the summer of 2001 from
the fox terrier rescue program. For those of you who are unfamiliar with
this type of adoption, imagine taking in a 10 year old child about whom you
know nothing and committing to doing your best to be a good parent.
Like a child,
the dog came with his own idiosyncrasies. He will only sleep on the bed,
on top of the covers, nuzzled as close to my face as he can get without
actually performing a French kiss on me.
Lest you
think this is a bad case of 'no discipline,' I should tell you that Perry and I
tried every means to break him of this habit, including locking him in a
separate bedroom for several nights. The new door cost over $200.
But I digress.
Five weeks
ago we began remodeling our house. Although the cost of the project is
downright obnoxious, it was 20 years overdue AND it got me out of cooking
Thanksgiving for family, extended family, and a lot of friends that I like more
than family most of the time.
I was
assigned the task of preparing 124 of my famous yeast dinner rolls for the two
Thanksgiving feasts we did attend.
I am still
cursing the electrician for getting the new oven hooked up so quickly. It
was the only appliance in the whole darn house that worked, thus the
assignment.
I made the
decision to cook the rolls on Wed evening to reheat Thurs am. Since the
kitchen was freshly painted, you can imagine the odor. Not wanting the
rolls to smell like Sherwin Williams #586, I put the rolls on baking sheets and
set them in the living room to rise for a few hours. Perry and I decided
to go out to eat, returning in about an hour. The rolls were ready to go
in the oven.
It was 8:30
PM. When I went to the living room to retrieve the pans, much to my
shock, one whole pan of 12 rolls was empty. I called out to Jasper and my
worst nightmare became a reality. He literally wobbled over to me.
He looked like a combination of the Pillsbury dough boy and the Michelin
Tire man wrapped up in fur. He groaned when he walked. I swear even
his cheeks were bloated.
I ran to the
phone and called our vet. After a few seconds of uproarious laughter, he
told me the dog would probably be okay; however, I needed to give him Pepto
Bismol every 2 hours for the rest of the night. God only knows why I
thought a dog would like Pepto Bismol any more than my kids did when they were
sick. Suffice it to say that by the time we went to bed the dog was
black, white and pink. He was so bloated we had to lift him onto the bed
for the night.
We arose at
7:30 and as we always do first thing, put the dog out to relieve himself.
Well, the dog was as drunk as a sailor on his first leave. He was
running into walls, falling flat on his butt and most of the time when he was
walking, his front half was going one direction and the other half was either
dragging the grass or headed 90 degrees in another direction.
He couldn't
lift his leg to pee, so he would just walk and pee at the same time. When
he ran down the small incline in our back yard he couldn't stop himself and
nearly ended up running into the fence.
His pupils
were dilated and he was as dizzy as a loon. I endured another few seconds
of laughter from the vet (second call within 12 hours) before he explained that
the yeast had fermented in his belly and that he was indeed drunk.
He assured me
that, not unlike most binges we humans go through, it would wear off after
about 4 or 5 hours, and to keep giving him Pepto Bismol.
Afraid to
leave him by himself in the house, Perry and I loaded him up and took him with
us to my sister's house for the first Thanksgiving meal of the day.
My sister
lives outside of Muskogee on a ranch, (10 to 15 minute drive). Rolls
firmly secured in the trunk (124 less 12) and drunk dog leaning from the back
seat onto the console of the car between Perry and I, we took off.
Now I know
you probably don't believe that dogs burp, but believe me when I say that after
eating a tray of risen unbaked yeast rolls, DOGS WILL BURP. These burps
were pure Old Charter. They would have matched or beat any smell in a
drunk tank at the police station. But that's not the worst of it.
Now he was
beginning to fart and they smelled like baked rolls. God strike me dead
if I am not telling the truth! We endured this for the entire trip to
Karen's, thankful she didn't live any further away than she did.
Once Jasper
was firmly placed in my sister's garage with the door locked, we finally sat
down to enjoy our first Thanksgiving meal of the day. The dog was the
topic of conversation all morning long and everyone made trips to the garage to
witness my drunken dog, each returning with a tale of Jasper's latest endeavor
to walk without running into something. Of course, as the old adage goes,
'what goes in must come out' and Jasper was no exception.
Granted if it
had been me that had eaten 12 risen, unbaked yeast rolls, you might as well
have put a concrete block up my behind, but alas a dog's digestive system is
quite different from yours or mine. I discovered this was a mixed
blessing when we prepared to leave Karen's house. Having discovered his
'packages' on the garage floor, we loaded him up in the car so we could hose
down the floor.
This was
another naive decision on our part. The blast of water from the hose hit
the poop on the floor and the poop on the floor withstood the blast from the
hose. It was like Portland cement beginning to set up and cure.
We finally
tried to remove it with a shovel. I (obviously no one else was going to
offer their services) had to get on my hands and knees with a coarse brush to
get the remnants off of the floor. And as if this wasn't degrading
enough, the darn dog in his drunken state had walked through the poop and left
paw prints all over the garage floor that had to be brushed too.
Well, by this
time the dog was sobering up nicely so we took him home and dropped him off
before we left for our second Thanksgiving dinner at Perry's sister's house.
I am happy to
report that as of today (Monday) the dog is back to normal both in size and
temperament. He has had a bath and is no longer tricolor. None the
worse for wear I presume. I am also happy to report that just this
evening I found 2 risen unbaked yeast rolls hidden inside my closet door.
It appears he
must have come to his senses after eating 10 of them but decided hiding 2 of
them for later would not be a bad idea. Now, I'm doing research on the
computer as to: 'How to clean unbaked dough from the carpet.'
And how was
your day?