Andy’s Afternoon Adventure

“How’s the dog,” I asked my father, knowing he had stopped by the house during the day to pick up a few things.

“That’s a good question,” dad said, ominously.

As I cleared the lump from my throat and attempted to speak, dad beat me to the punch saying, “He’s fine, but you almost came home to no dog.”

Apparently, around 11 a.m. dad attempted to hook Andy to his chain and let him out the front door to do his business. Unfortunately, dad, with his arthritic hands and poor eyesight, missed the hook without realizing it.

Andy took a few steps down the sidewalk when his chain, which was laying loosely on his collar, fell casually to the ground with a clink.

The puggle looked at my father who was standing in the doorway, knowing that he was, for the first time…free.

Dad opened the door and calmly said, “Andy”.  That was the first mistake. The one time Andy got out on me, I raised my voice (which I never do) and he stopped dead in his tracks and came back inside, his head bowed, tail between his legs.

Dad, with his nonchalant call, was not going to convince the little rascal to come back. According to Dad, Andy bowed his head, his chin on the sidewalk and raised his backside into the air….He wanted to play.

Dad approached and like lighting, Andy the Puggle was gone, darting across the street into the neighbors back yard.

Dad pursued him, calmly calling his name. The closer he got, the further into the neighborhood Andy would run.

After about 10 minutes Dad went back to the house and got in his truck. He perused the neighborhood, calling for the dog out the window.

Occasionally, while weaving up and down the area streets he’d catch a glimpse of the puggle traipsing through someone’s yard, stopping to sniff a bush or a tree and then darting further into the woods when he heard my father call out to him.

After about a half hour Dad gave up and returned home, seemingly wondering how he was going to explain to me that he’d lost my dog and then probably wondering how I was going to explain it to Keely who would, in turn, have to explain to Aidan how sending the family dog to Uncle Walt may not have been the best idea.

Two hours had passed with no sign of the dog……

Then, as dad sat in the living room, he heard the unmistakable Italian accent of Mario Pesce, our neighbor for 40 years.

“Peter, Peter,” Mario yelled from across the street. “Zis youra dog!”

Dad looked out the front door and there was Mario, standing in his front yard, holding Andy by the collar.

According to the dad, the dog sat quietly, his tail thumping, until my father crossed the street to get him.

Mario snuck up on Andy, who he found in his back yard sniffing at his home-made wine barrels. He knew, from peeping out his window like all our nosy neighbors do, that Andy was a missing person.

So, it was no surprise to me that Andy, for the first time since I got him almost three weeks ago, was in no hurry to go outside when I arrived home from work at 6 p.m.

God only knows what he got himself into while running through our neighborhood Tuesday afternoon.

I’m only thankful that Mario did the honorable thing and returned the animal, instead of making sausage out of him that I’m sure would have gone oh so good with that wine that Andy found so appealing.

You better shape up Puggle or during my next trip to the grocery store, instead of doggy treats, I’ll  spend the money on chloroform, medium-sized Hefty bags and a shovel.


One Response to “Andy’s Afternoon Adventure”

  1. Not humored by the last part one bit! The funny thing was yesterday we were in Torrington and Grayson saw a golden in a yard and said “Look Mom, a gog…I have a gog, his named Andy!” I cried, and when we got home he got out of the car and said “Where’s Andy?” and I cried again! Please try not to let anything happen to him…anymore!

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