Fudge Did It!!

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

I am married to a “pass the buck” man and I don’t mean a man who is passing out money.  When the kids were little, he thought nothing of throwing them under the bus if it meant he could stay out of trouble.  I could walk into the kitchen and find him eating a peanut butter sandwich with peanut butter on every drawer knob and him holding the knife and he would still try and say it was the kids who did it. I have long told him he would never be successful as a criminal because the evidence he leaves behind when he exits a room would do him in every time.  As they got older, the jig was up because the kids would blow him in and after a while all of them going back and forth about who did what would just make me mad at the whole lot of them.

 

The trouble with being a buck passer, besides the name, is sometimes in your quest to pass the buck quickly when you sense impending nagging, you tend to oversell and overshoot your buck passing, and it becomes obvious where the buck really stops.  This is exactly what happened the other night when I walked into the living room to see why the house was so cold. Immediately, I noticed two things, 1) John sitting in his recliner playing a game on his IPod and 2) the front door left wide open.  It felt like I had walked into a freezer and made me wonder why I was the only one who noticed.  I swear I could see my own breath as I asked the obvious question, “why is the front door wide open?” Even after living with a buck passer for all of my married life, I was unprepared for the response he uttered, “Fudge did it.”  So, to clarify, I said, “are you telling me Fudge opened the front door and then didn’t shut it when she came back into the house?” 

 

As the story unfolded, it quickly became clear to one of us that the longer he talked, the bigger hole he was digging.  He had finally run up against an unmovable buck as he explained that he had let both dogs out, left the door slightly ajar, and Fudge must have come back in at some point unannounced. This meant he really wasn’t clear where either dog happened to be as he sat in his recliner playing his game with an open front door.  He also wasn’t sure if some wild animal had used the wide open door as an excuse to come in out of the cold or if a crazed murderer was now sleeping in our spare bedroom waiting until we all fell asleep to get down to business.  I had some serious doubts that the man sitting in the chair oblivious to life around him would notice anything like that and in fact, was almost sure that if a stranger had walked in and asked where he should put his stuff for the night, all John would do was nod and say, “my wife is back in the bedroom, ask her, I’m playing a game.”  The only thing John seemed crystal clear on was that it was Fudge’s fault for getting him in trouble, because she left the door open that caused me to feel the arctic breeze and come looking for an answer.   Kids are one thing, but blaming an innocent animal is another and where I feel the line should be drawn.  I seemed to be the only one who felt that way that night, because he kept looking at Fudge and telling her she had gotten him into big trouble.  I pointed out several times that it wasn’t a dog that got him in trouble, but another animal, but my words seemed to fall on big, donkey ears.

 

If a lesson gets learned, I count it as a successful story and know we can put it all in the past and it won’t happen again.  In this case, I would be wrong because it happened again the other night.  This time, it had poured all day.  Since we were cooped up in the house, although I did still walk the dogs, I cleaned, vacuumed, dusted and mopped the floors.  I am so behind this year for Christmas that I felt like I had one major thing crossed off my list and could proceed with the other fifty things left to do.  I even cooked dinner and wrapped some packages and felt like I was reliving those days when my mom used to call me a whirling dervish.  The older I get the less I whirl, but I had whirled that day. Anyways, everything was going so well until John got home from work and let the dogs out.  I was busy in the kitchen when he brought them back in, but not too busy to see muddy paw prints all over my newly mopped floors and all down the carpeted steps as one or both of the dogs followed him downstairs.  For one fleeting moment, I wondered if killing someone with a Swiffer under these circumstances would be considered justifiable homicide in the eyes of the law. Luckily for John, I do not own a gun, but I do own a rather loud voice and sometimes, I think he would agree, that can be much worse.

 

Trust me when I say, I used that loud voice over and over again to point out the fact that my pristine floors weren’t pristine anymore and someone was going to pay and then it happened again.  He said it was Fudge’s fault.  Apparently, somehow Fudge’s 50 pound self had eluded him when he wiped paws.  I asked if 2 dogs multiplied by 4 paws was too much math for him and he said Fudge must have pushed the door open again and got into the house before he had a chance to wipe her paws. Apparently, he expected the dog who makes it a point everyday to keep us informed as to who is really in charge, to sit patiently by the open door with muddy paws (did I mention it was pouring?) until someone came and wiped her paws.  Surely by now he has to know we do not own Rin Tin Tin or Lassie.  We are talking about Fudge and Vern here and I count it a good day if Vern doesn’t eat a box of Kleenex and Fudge finally comes after I turn off the outside lights and yell, “bye bye Fudge, I’m leaving.”

 

I think John could tell by my red face, frequent breaths, and moans of, “my beautiful floors are ruined,” that it would be in his best interest to volunteer for clean up.  My floors are back to being pristineish, although I know at any time, it could all happen again and the buck could be shamelessly passed to an innocent dog.  

I didn't do nuttin'

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

Gail, I have given up. I have Fudge and Vern and my daughter's two dogs here. Not a chance for clean floors :) At least I tried. LOL

Thanks, Christine.

Janie, I know, right?? It's John's fault :)

Jane, LOL...he would fight me for that IPad :)

Nancy, LOL..Ned and Clancy are on the case. We feel better already!!

Carol, LOL...I bet any judge would see it my way.

Nancy, Thank you! Oh no...she got into blue ink. LOL You are so lucky to be able to take her to work.

Joanne, Sometimes, I don't keep a straight face, but this time I managed. LOL I like all of your responses to your boys. Yep, he is a good sport.....a buck passer...but a good sport :)

[Gail and Bailey]

Laurie, I understand the compulsion to keep the floors clean when company is coming but I have learned that I am the only one who cares!  Company will never notice!  How could they,  when there are two gorgeous doodles to look at instead!!

[Christine & Shelby]

LOL... Poor Fudge. Wrongly accused, thrown under the bus..... Poor Fudge

[Janie, Jackson and Jilly]

Too funny! How could Fudge be accused of any wrongdoing with that sweet face!!

[Jane, Guinness and Murphy]

If I was on the jury you would NOT be convicted!  I think you need to take away his IPad for a week....that will teach him.

[Nancy, Ned, Clancy, and Charlie]

I really enjoyed this one, Laurie.  I don't whirl too quickly any longer either. Poor innocent Fudge, getting blamed.  Ned and Clancy are going to have to address this with John and leave muddy paw prints all over his clothing!

[Carol and Banjo]

I don't think you'd be convicted for Death by Swifter.    I rather like the sound of it!    And, Fudge, you poor sweet, darling......your poppa is shameless!  

[Nancy and Georgia Brown]

Cute story and cute picture. 

I have the opposite issue, especially since she's young and I bring her to work everyday. I don't want any excuse to ban her from the office. If there is a mess I am quick to blame anyone (even me) before Georgia. But my bosses are both dog owners so they are pretty clued in.

The blue ball point pen stains didn't come out of the office carpet even after my drastic attempts and about a gallon of stain remover. Professional cleaners only got 90%. And having her mouth and paws covered in blue made it hard to divert the blame.

[Joanne ~ Spud*]

PS.

 "Blame.....(blog).............. Says the Woman that dressed me up in a Fruit Cake Shirt!  HA

[Joanne ~ Spud*]

"My candy is all gone".

 "Sorry Ian,  you should not have left it out for the dog to get", ( I ate it).  

" My toy is broken."    "

Sorry boys, but you should not leave your horrible noise maker lying around for the dog to chew ( dog didn't chew I just broke it once and for all )

Yes Donna, we use the fart joke here all the time  :) 

John has that cute grin to go along with his devilish blame tactics. I can see him grin and you go ballistic. How do  you keep a straight face, Laurie?