Tuesday, November 01, 2005

Stormy, Pluto, and Spikey

I used to have a Fox Terrier named Stormy, so named by my father, because we got her during "Desert Storm." Come to think of it, my dad named every single pet we ever owned: Stormy, Beezer, Katie, Goldie, Kate, Franklin, and even Spikey the cockatiel. I realized with the last animal, Kate, that my dad got to name her because he was the one who didn't want her. So, for fear of alienating him, my mom let him name the new puppy. What I have come to realize is this: My father really did want every pet we ever owned. He loves all kinds of animals. He has just been pretending that he doesn't want them all these years so that he gets to name them! What a rip-off!

But back to Stormy. Stormy was my Fox Terrier and she never bit or even snapped at a person. She was a terrible watchdog because, when it came to burglars, she would rather use her tongue than her teeth. When it came to other dogs, however, let's just say that Stormy never learned how to "play nice." She almost killed our neighbor's poodle, and pound-for-pound she was the best fighting dog that ever lived. Unfortunately, she only weighed fifteen pounds.

One day our friend's German Shorthaired Pointer (read: larger than a Doberman) swam into our backyard because that's what hunting dogs named Pluto do, they swim into your yard. I happened to be in the yard at the time so I glanced at Stormy just long enough to see the fire already burning in her eyes. Her heckles raised and her lips drew back into a snarl as I screamed at the top of my lungs, "STORMY SIT!!!"

What she heard was, "Stormy ATTACK!!!" She launched full speed at the intruder, who, when not being attacked by a fifteen pound weakling, is normally a very nice dog. Pluto, in what I believe to be an act of pure doggy grace, wrapped his entire mouth around Stormy, lifted her bodily from the ground, and threw her into the canal! Stormy swam as fast as a doggy paddle permits back into the yard and ran full speed directly into the house, cowering with fear.

After drying my dog inside, I turned my attention to the backyard and the behemoth beast that was looming at the door, tail wagging. Within a few minutes I had returned him to his rightful, yet slightly disturbed, owners and received at least forty apologies and assurances that they would pay for any vet bills. I politely declined claiming, "If your gonna be dumb, you'd better be tough," which I felt summed up both me and my dog nicely.

As it turns out every one was fine and we all learned a valuable lesson that day. The only problem is I can't remember what it is. So I turn to you, faithful readers. What deep spiritual lesson did we learn that day?

5 comments:

whoiam said...

spiritual lesson...hmmmm...

stormy rocked because he had big huevos!!! he didn't look at the size of the dog, just the threat....he was a "doggy david"!!!!

wow...now that i read my comment....i feel pretty moronic...oh well...i'm leaving it...

Harrison said...

hahaha dude... this is the second most pointless story ever.

please tell the pumpkin story on your blog. that is by far the #1 worst, most pointless story ever.

btw, the answer, the point of your story, is forty-two.

Jared Kirk said...

One watermellon story, comin' right up!

Harrison said...

oooh yeah... watermellons....

Anonymous said...

lets see a spiritual lesson...well, one it could be that the big dog was like our gracious God...when we run to him with our anger...maybe testing us or something...he throws us in the cool canal to clear our heads and show us that he is in control, and then afterwards when we are getting all dried off and comforted, he is there watching with a happy smile on his face for teaching us a lesson...he is still in control and loves us even though we may not love him back at times.
I don't even know where I got that, lol...so wacky...lol.
I love the story though...just to let you know...your little stories are my comedy time when I am feeling sad or dissapointed, thanks for spreading the joy through clean jokes and stories. :)