Fudge, Alone in the Dark!

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

It happened again last night.  John and I were in bed, watching TV, when I heard a funny, faraway noise.  It really is a miracle I heard any noise at all, because the older we get, the louder the TV gets.  At this rate, it won’t be long before we have to caption all of our programs, so the neighbors don’t yell over across the fence, “Hey, stop flipping the channels!  We were listening to that program!”  First, I thought the noise was on TV, but something kept nagging at my psyche and I turned to John and said, “Did you hear that sound?”  Now, I have been married for 36 years and I’m obviously a slow learner, because I have never asked John the questions, Do you hear that sound? or Do you smell something? that he hasn’t answered back in the negative.  Truthfully, I think it is a warped defense mechanism that he has perfected over the years, in case, by answering YES, he has to get up and do something.  I swear I could put a piece of Limburger cheese on his pillow and he would still deny smelling anything out of the usual.  So, of course, last night when I turned to him and said, “Do you hear a dog barking outside?” he said he didn’t hear anything.  Unfortunately for him, the barking dog became more persistent and his irate wife cried out, “Did you leave one of the dogs outside again?” Which leads us to defense mechanism number two…laugh like you just heard the funniest joke imaginable and hope your wife starts laughing and ignores the fact that one of her beloved dogs was forgotten outside and is now barking to be let back into the house. Needless to say, I didn’t join in the laughter.

 

I can also tell you the exact moment John realized that his life was hanging in the balance and he indeed did forget a dog, because it coincided with him leaping from the bed and declaring, “I think it’s Fudge.”  I can only assume he used his great powers of deduction to ascertain which dog he had forgotten, because his frenzied movements had Vern hot on his tail. 

Hey Dad, wait for me, this is fun!!

Sure enough, he had accidentally locked Fudge out on our sun porch, but blamed the whole thing on Fudge, because as he put it, “I called her and she didn’t come, so I assumed she was in the house.” This is the kind of thing that makes me feel I need to get up after John comes to bed and retrace his steps to make sure he hasn’t left the toaster plugged in and resting in a pan of dish water, the refrigerator door open because he forgot to close it after he grabbed a Gatorade, Hayley locked outside yelling, “dad, I told you I would be right back.  Why did you lock the door?” or Fudge and Vern out in the yard playing Twister with all the nocturnal animals in our neighborhood.  He gets irritated with Vern who spends much of the night pawing him for attention, but I wonder if Vern is trying to prove to him that real men stick together and have each other’s back.  Vern must be trying to help him stay out of trouble by reminding him about things he knows John has forgotten to do.  Dad, you left Fudge outside again, I have no water in my water bowl again, I’m not supposed to eat the candy wrappers you forget to throw away at night, I have been sitting here with my legs crossed together for over an hour, do you think you could let me outside or I might have to get mom!  Yes, I am finally putting it altogether and it makes perfect sense, because Vern doesn’t spend all night pawing me.

 

I talk to Megan almost every day and when she called, I knew she would understand my frustration because she has her beloved French Bulldogs. 

God knows if Doc forgot to let one or both of them back in the house, he would either be severely wounded or forced to perform mouth to snout CPR because both dogs passed out from over snorting.  So, I relayed the whole story, secretly hoping that she would finally realize I am the better parent and I would finally win the imaginary race in my head, but I tripped myself up when I said, “Who lets a dog out and forgets to let a living, breathing, human being back in the house?”  I immediately realized my mistake and quickly changed it to living, breathing creature, but naturally, out of my whole story that should have been about her forgetful father and my martyrdom, she honed in on that one line and said, “mom, you do know that Fudge and Vern are dogs, right?” So I said, “That explains why they have so much trouble holding their spoon and fork at the dinner table each night,” and she ended the conversation by saying both of her parents were forgetful and weird.  Of course, in that kind of race, I was able to stop myself before I asked her who was weirder and more forgetful.

 

Back to sweet Fudge standing alone in the sunroom and trying desperately to alert her people that she was out there. 

How can you forget me??

She has such a distinct, high pitched bark and had to have been out there awhile before she decided to use her voice.  I am sure she was enjoying the solitude for a bit, smelling the night animals lurking about, and finding herself free to run from window to window without being blocked by a rather large, cream colored, defensive player.  At some point, she must have realized that the entrance back into her house was blocked by a locked door and probably said to herself, “Why is my owner such a nincompoop?” because when said nincompoop let her back in, she made it clear she was not happy with him. 

The Nincompoop!

She wanted nothing to do with him and chose to sleep away from us that night, which is unusual.  Of course, I hugged her and whispered in her ear, “Fudge, don’t you think I am the better pet owner?” and I could tell by her kisses that she agreed!  Finally, a win for my team.

[Leslie, Yogi & Maci Bear]

Well that proves it beyond a shadow of a doubt. Congrats Laurie, try not to rub it in too much though.

[F, Calla & Luca]

Just what was needed on a dreary day. My problem is I have no one else to blame.