GUESS WHO’S COMING FOR KIBBLES AND BITS?
While I listened to alleged singers on American Idol screech their way into millions of homes, my mutt Jenny started to bark and then promptly left the room. “I know,” I shook my head. “Just awful.” However, I soon learned that American Idol wasn’t the reason for her distress. Her barks were a Scooby alert for “Ruh-roh! Raggy!”
The barking continued outside in three part harmony, at which point I put an end to the Idol contestant’s misery with a click of the remote, opened the front door, and watched a mini basset hound named Lucky bound his way into my hallway with my two dogs, like the three amigos.
With broken chain swinging from his collar in syncopated beat to the sway of his tail, Lucky waddled into the kitchen, parked himself in front of a dog dish, and began demolishing the leftovers from Jake’s dinner, while my two mutts body slammed each other against the wall in delight. They love company, and I found out later this wasn’t Lucky’s first presumed dinner invitation.
It seems that Lucky likes taking early evening constitutionals without telling his owners and walk himself around the neighborhood, while saying “heel” and scooping his poop, then somehow ends up on our side of the mountain playing with my pups, who wear shock therapy dog collars to prevent them from wandering off like Lucky.
After Lucky finished snacking on kibbles and bits, he decided to take a tour of the house, headed upstairs, and stopped on the second floor landing to howl. Apparently, that’s what basset hounds do and do well, as my dogs continued to body slam each other then raced down stairs into the kitchen, slip sliding against the sleek tiles into several chairs, and having an altogether terrific doggone time.
Lucky, on the other hand, continued his house tour as my son tried to nab him in order to get the phone number off his collar. When my son finally cornered him, he called out the numbers to me as I keypunched them into the handheld. Several rings later, I was chatting with Lucky’s adopted human dad, who was thrilled to know that he we had his furry son, although not too thrilled with Lucky’s propensity for making himself at home in other people’s homes.
Ten minutes later, we said our goodbyes to Lucky and sat back down to watch American Idol and more howling. Maybe the karaoke-like screechy singing caused Lucky to break his chain in the first place. After all, dog’s have sensitive ears and a nose for that shit.
What do you think of this season of American Idol?
Do you care?