If the Mayans were actually correct in predicting this 2012 apocalypse thing, I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that I will be buck naked in the shower when it all goes down. You see, I am ALWAYS buck naked in the shower when the shit hits the fan in my house. It’s like a damn chain reaction as soon as I step under that stream of water, and then… BAM! All hell breaks loose right then and there. And wouldn’t ya know, my goat of a dog was more than happy enough to prove this very point to me yet again one day last week.
I had just lathered up my hair when my furry little nemesis came slinking around the bathroom door. I almost gasped out loud when I saw him because the dude literally had foam dripping down from his beard. Sweet baby Jesus, I was scared. My mind instantly flashed back to a few hours before when I found him in the back yard eating something that he clearly shouldn’t be eating. And when I unsuccessfully tried to pry open his mouth to find out what the hell he was chomping, I discovered the tip end of a squirrel’s tail not far from his feet. At the time, I didn’t know whether to be horrified or electrified that he’d potentially murdered one of those bushy-tailed bastards who are on my eternal shit-list. However, when I saw that he was actually foaming at the mouth now, I confirmed that I was, in fact, horrified. I feared that none other than Cujo himself was in the bathroom with me.
I gotta admit that I was more than just a little nervous to finally step out of the shower. I tried like hell to turn up the sweet talk as I slowly placed one wet leg on the bath mat outside the glass door, expecting this rabified beast to gnaw my leg right down to the bare bone. Surprisingly though, he barely gave me so much as even a second look before he laid down on the tile floor. I glanced around and saw piles of foamy spit all throughout our bedroom and all down the hall and questioned whether to call Animal Control or our vet. I mean, clearly, I was about to be eaten alive, right?
Thank God I have those eyes in the back of my head that I always tell my kids about cause they sure came in handy as I cleaned up all the spit piles throughout the house. There was no way in hell I was turning my back on this unpredictable wild dog for even one second. Noooooo, no, I was gonna tell him what a “Nice doggy” he was every step of the friggin’ way is what I was gonna do. Much to my surprise, though, the big old lug just laid there without even attempting to move and peacefully watched me wipe up all of his messes. I wasn’t attacked or even close to being mauled to pieces. What the hell?! Was I on Candid Camera again?
I never found out for sure if the dog really did eat a squirrel, and luckily, the foaming of the mouth deal just seemed to be a passing thing. My husband says that dogs sometimes do that when they get all wound up (yet another similarity between men and dogs?) I tried very hard to not make any connections between me showering and the dog foaming at the mouth (Ewww!), but nonetheless, I was so relieved that I didn’t have to warn the neighbors to lock up their kids from my rabid dog. I’m not thinking THAT would win me any favorite neighbor awards….