The dog was still focused on me, growling, baring its teeth but the end of it's tail was stuck in the car door. It was yapping like a Poodle who got a ear cut while being groomed with a #2 clipper at the Hillary Pet Clip and Tuck by a first-time 340 pound "pet stylist professional." The 12 pound maniac apparently didn't notice the tail in the door thing or didn't care because it was still trying to come after me.
It went back and forth following me as I tried to get to the handle to open the door. The dog wanted a piece of me even if it could only move in a half-circle next to the driver's side door, teeth on the outside parameter snapping and drooling. I'm not sure I wanted to open the door.
The scene looked like a slap-stick cartoon as I could almost see the swooshes as the dog bounced back and forth like a pendulum. I could image a chime and a door's window opening with a coo-coo bird popping out to announce the hour.
All this activity attracted the attention of the driver of an Gene Petty Power and Light utility truck driver going by. It was Roberto, who does part-time tree-trimming work for the old man that cut down the dead pine in my back yard last year. The first thing out of his mouth as he walked up, hands on his hips was, "I wish I'da brought my video camera. America's Funniest Videos would give me some money for this one...."
The dog got even more excited, somehow, when Roberto stopped and sat on the back of one-heel just an inch and a half outside the dog's bite range. Close enough to get dog spittle-splatter on him but just a quarter-inch out of the extreme limit of it's teeth. Roberto turned his head back toward me and said," What ya' going to do?"
"Wait on my sister, I guess. I'm not turning that loose."
"Why don't you just get in the car on the other side and crack the driver's door open enough to let the dawg go?"
"Somehow in the excitement I closed the door with locks on and don't bother asking: the keys are in the ignition..."
"Well, gawd d....."
"Yeah, well."
Just as I thought things couldn't get worse and I would be able to explain this to my sister, I smelled smoke. Did I mention that I'd left the car running? There IS a reason you should cut the grass growing up through the gravel on your auxiliary driveway.
"Yeah, well."
Just as I thought things couldn't get worse and I would be able to explain this to my sister, I smelled smoke. Did I mention that I'd left the car running? There IS a reason you should cut the grass growing up through the gravel on your auxiliary driveway.
I didn't think it would be too good an idea to point that out to my sister because I love her so much and I wouldn't want to hurt her feelings. That and the fact I had her dog's tail was trapped in the door of my car in her front yard. Occasionally, timing can be restrictive of light criticism.
I could see flames then, lapping out from under the car and licking the dog's butt. The dog had re-doubled it's efforts to escape and seemed little concerned with us. It howled and was less-threatening and more desperate in the nature of its escape. Roberto, big man that he was; however, was quick to act.
He ran to his truck and grabbed a large set of heavy duty cable-cutters. He went to the passenger side of my car and used the tool to bust the side-window. He reached in and unlocked the door and jumped in. I just stood open-mouthed watching the scene like it was a slow-motion sequence from a Quentin Tarantino movie.
His first move was to try to unlock and open the driver's side door. It had one of those tiny little button knobs that are hard to grip and Roberto's hands were already sweaty. He hit the electric lock (after accidentally opening and closing all the windows in the car) but nothing happened. I found out later that the lock-out switch had been hap-hazardously turned off and on in the desperate hurry to locate the right door-panel button to unlock the door.
Robert was quickly behind the wheel and had the transmission in reverse. He did get the window open somehow and looked down at the dog. Every time he tried to back it up a little dog almost ended up under the front left tire until Roberto hit the brakes. This weren't a-working. Roberto was getting frustrated, the dog was getting hot, already in a panic and I just stood there looking pretty.
That's when I saw a light-bulb turn-on above Roberto's head. It was the interior dome light because the passenger-side door was still open. Still, I could tell Roberto had an idea and being a man of action had started the commission of his plan. I thought it was a no-win scenario.
I was, again, wrong. Or, maybe not.
In one swift, almost rehearsed-looking movement, Roberto swung the cable-cutters out the window and down. Before I could look-away he had small blunt scissor-like cutting blades
around the base of the dog's tail. The dog stopped barking and looked back. In that moment of silence, Roberto, hands solid around the red-rubber grips, slammed his big muscular lineman's arms together releasing the dog from the car.
It was at that very moment my sister drove up.
I could see flames then, lapping out from under the car and licking the dog's butt. The dog had re-doubled it's efforts to escape and seemed little concerned with us. It howled and was less-threatening and more desperate in the nature of its escape. Roberto, big man that he was; however, was quick to act.
He ran to his truck and grabbed a large set of heavy duty cable-cutters. He went to the passenger side of my car and used the tool to bust the side-window. He reached in and unlocked the door and jumped in. I just stood open-mouthed watching the scene like it was a slow-motion sequence from a Quentin Tarantino movie.
His first move was to try to unlock and open the driver's side door. It had one of those tiny little button knobs that are hard to grip and Roberto's hands were already sweaty. He hit the electric lock (after accidentally opening and closing all the windows in the car) but nothing happened. I found out later that the lock-out switch had been hap-hazardously turned off and on in the desperate hurry to locate the right door-panel button to unlock the door.
Robert was quickly behind the wheel and had the transmission in reverse. He did get the window open somehow and looked down at the dog. Every time he tried to back it up a little dog almost ended up under the front left tire until Roberto hit the brakes. This weren't a-working. Roberto was getting frustrated, the dog was getting hot, already in a panic and I just stood there looking pretty.
That's when I saw a light-bulb turn-on above Roberto's head. It was the interior dome light because the passenger-side door was still open. Still, I could tell Roberto had an idea and being a man of action had started the commission of his plan. I thought it was a no-win scenario.I was, again, wrong. Or, maybe not.
In one swift, almost rehearsed-looking movement, Roberto swung the cable-cutters out the window and down. Before I could look-away he had small blunt scissor-like cutting blades
around the base of the dog's tail. The dog stopped barking and looked back. In that moment of silence, Roberto, hands solid around the red-rubber grips, slammed his big muscular lineman's arms together releasing the dog from the car. It was at that very moment my sister drove up.
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