I was awakened by the sounds of a canine troublemaker frolicking in the living room last night. Assuming it was Mack, and since a trip to the bathroom had now become necessary, I threw myself out bed, in a valiant attempt to halt any impending revolt in its tracks.
Mack and Norman were sound asleep, but Seamus, YES Seamus, the 11+ year old, hard of hearing, slow to NO moving, partially blind, one lunged, poster child for rule followers, and illustrious wise sage of the pack, was jumping lunging with attitude, around the room, with a couch pillow in his mouth, shaking it, for all it was worth.
Nothing can describe this moment in time better than the immortal words of 3 year old despondent Tyler Griffis upon learning he was not allowed to play mini hockey at midnight: “Why is this happening?”
As I stood in the dark, cold living room in shock, trying to come to terms with the treachery and pandemonium before me, thoughts raced through my mind.
How did older than dirt Seamus manifest the energy to do this ??
Was this a glimpse into the secret underworld of night ??
Does Seamus have an alter ego I don’t know about ??
One sadly, ever-present thought quietly nagged at me. In the blink of an eye, reality crash around me and the situation became crystal clear: “OH MY GOD I'M GOING TO WET MY PANTS !!”
"GIVE ME THAT" I screamed, as I grabbed the damp pillow from the exalted one’s hairy mouth, and hobbled to the bathroom, as fast as my pretzeled legs could carry me.
Check out www.TheMuddyPawsGroup.com to learn more about our rescued farm animals, our services, and how you can help.
