I can only hope that your Thanksgiving was as exciting as mine. Quite frankly, I was worried that we might have to SKIP it at our Texas house this year because Pretty and Slow tend to be last-minute with their plans, or “spontaneous” as Pretty prefers to call it. Whatever. The upshot of their lackadaisical attitude was that we had no turkey, no ham, no nothing in the refrigerator or oven as of Wednesday when our Auntie Am was scheduled to arrive for the holiday festivities. I was embarrassed for both of them, and, of course, you know what flows downhill so I was afraid their faults would reflect poorly on moi.
Well, Pretty rushed Ollie and me to a new grooming place early Wednesday morning, and we spent the day in those wretched little wire cage thingies that I loathe. It was a good place, as far as I could tell. The people treated us like we had made our reservations days in advance instead of just popping in on the day before Thanksgiving so I admired their sensitivity to Peeps without Plans. Slow and Pretty came to get us at the very last minute before the shop closed and were in a panic to get to the airport to pick up Auntie Am, who was flying in from South Carolina. My nerves were shot, let me tell you. As a matter of fact, I was so upset that I felt nauseous and jumped out of Slow’s lap in the front seat to the back seat where Ollie was sitting by himself. Then, I threw up. Yep, gave it the old heave ho, if you will. Luckily, I was very quiet, though, and nobody knew but Ollie, and he moved WAY over to the other side of the back seat, sat straight up and stared off into the distance with that one blue eye and the other brown eye. Geez. Those eyes ain’t right, and they give me the willies.
I felt much better after that and jumped into the front seat to sit on Slow’s lap again while Pretty drove as fast as she could in all that Houston traffic, but, wouldn’t you know it? Slow said something smelled funny, and the old girl looked in the back seat and saw the mess that I’d made. Of course, she told Pretty who said where were the Clorox wipes and then Slow says she took them out when she was cleaning out the truck and then Pretty said that was just like Slow to clean out the CLEANING SUPPLIES and didn’t she know that we would never get to the airport on time and where was Auntie Am going to sit and on and on and on they went like it was this HUGE DRAMA. Dear God, give me a break. And Ollie keeps inching closer to the door in the back seat. I swear, I thought the Big Guy was going to figure out how to open it and JUMP OUT – he was so wigged.
But, all’s well that ends well, as I’m fond of saying, and the Peeps solved the minor problemo in the back seat and managed to pick up Auntie Am in the nick of time, too. You see? Much ado about nothing.
I was further relieved to discover that, while Ollie and I were otherwise engaged, my Peeps had secured adequate provisions for our holiday meal for our first Thanksgiving on Worsham Street. What could possibly go wrong now?
After stuffing themselves with ham, corn, rice and Italian creme cake, the Peeps retired to the den to watch football games on television because that’s what good American families do after big meals on a Major Holiday in November. Slow, Pretty, Smiley Boy and Auntie Am hogged the furniture and best places, and the rest of us had to settle for the floor. By the way, despite the wondrous aromas from the kitchen, Ollie, Chelsea, Annie and moi had our usual dry dog food for our holiday meal. Wow. That sucks.
No one will ever know for sure how the Disaster happened, but it began with an uproar coming from the kitchen. I heard Ollie and Chelsea really going at each other, and I mean it was LOUD! I immediately jumped up and ran toward the front of the house to see what was going on, and Annie and Slow were right behind me. I got to the kitchen door and froze in my tracks. Oh, my God, what’s happened??? Little bits of tin foil were all over the floor, and the glaze from the ham was everywhere! It looked like a bomb had exploded and blown up the ham! Ham, ham, ham – where was the ham? The ham was missing, the ham was missing, the ham was missing. It wasn’t on the counter! It was gone, gone, gone! Sniff, sniff, sniff. I turned around and ran past Slow and headed for the yard. Always follow the ham.
By this time Smiley Boy had started for the yard, and Slow and Annie were right behind him. If I hadn’t seen it for myself, I wouldn’t have believed it…I really wouldn’t. Ollie was running through the yard with the WHOLE HAM in his big old mouth, and Chelsea was after him as fast as she could go!! Smiley Boy raced outside after them, and poor old Slow brought up the rear. Heh, heh. I wasn’t about to mess with those big dogs over that ham, and neither was Annie. We laid low. Of course, SB reached them first, but Slow told him to get back because she was afraid the Double Color Eyed Smokey Lonesome might bite him. I started barking as loud as I could to make sure that Ollie knew I was all for him and to remind him that I had been his best friend even though I had recently thrown up in the back seat of the truck. Don’t give up, Ollie! That ham is the best treat we’ll EVER have! Keep running, Big Guy!!
Sigh. Curses. Foiled again. As soon as Slow got close to him, Ollie dropped that ham on the grass so she could rescue it. Chelsea made a move for it, but Slow was too quick for her, and the ham was saved for any Peep who still wanted it. Pretty and Auntie Am had joined us in the yard and seemed to be suffering from disbelief as Slow carried the ham inside. It had been a spectacle of the highest order, and I congratulated Ollie on his initiative and daring that had provided such fine entertainment for the first Texas Thanksgiving.
Clearly Slow and Pretty aren’t the only ones who can be spontaneous, but all this excitement works my last nerve and makes me very sleepy. I need to catch some zzzzz’s tonight and dream of honey-glazed hams. Catch you later.