After a determined lawn-to-chair-to-table climb, Boz ponders the absence of food (and his next move).
Much like Charlie Brown putting his trust in Lucy to hold the football on his kickoff attempt, I too have blindly believed that the laws of nature (both human and otherwise) would support me no matter what my logic or track record, that somehow a simmering sauce would not boil over if left to its own devices, or that a slow leak would not fulfill its destiny as a flat tire if unattended to, or that bulldogs fed potato salad at lunch, would not vent odoriferous reminders at dinner. Ah, you live and learn (and pass the air freshener).
Recently I had to add another foible to my list of ill-fated expectations: trusting in the stasis of balanced weight, the premise that what rests in equilibrium will stay in equilibrium.
The dining room table (with a new wider base), or as I like to call it, Boz’s Lazy Susan.
My story begins with my penchant for tables, pedestal tables in particular. Seriously, I have enough tabletops to host a cribbage tournament. Last year I bought (because it was a scoring deal) a 60-inch round teak tabletop and placed it on a narrow base, a temporary fix until I could find a wider pedestal better proportioned to ensure the table’s stability. Even with the smaller base bolted to the table, all it took was a slovenly lean or a couple heavy elbows on the tabletop to create a Charlie Chaplin moment, sending culprit to the ground and table rolling. Trust me, I know of what I speak on a firsthand basis–bruised elbows, ego, nose and all.
Sometimes the unexpected treat (berry jam in this case) finds its way to an eager custodian.
My first (yes there were several) tabletop mishap came at the hand, make that paw, of another. During a rare moment of cleaning the kitchen, I heard a startling crash and thud, and felt a couple of rolling tremors not unlike those delivered by local quakes. Within the cacophony of destruction also rang the bright chime of crystal and the crackle of its subsequent demise.
I bolted to the dinning room only to find the large round table overturned and gently pivoting to the low side of the floor like a waning top. Shards of a crystal cake plate marked the point of impact, and a path of shredded coconut and whipped cream dollops led to the final resting place of the catapulted cake and one ebullient bulldog. Claiming his delectable prize, Boz was muzzle deep in frosting and pastry parts. My declaration of “Oh Boz-man, look what you’ve done!” fell on deaf, if not cream-clogged, ears.
While you may think English Bulldogs are sandbags with legs, this really is not the case. Where food is involved, Boz can morph into a super-canine creature: part Snoopy; a little Santa’s Helper; and a dash of Scooby Doo for good measure. Based on Boz’s previous table ascents, I have a theory. Boz climbed onto the dining room chair and then up and onto the dining room table. Having reached the summit, he sauntered over to the plateau’s edge where the poorly placed, ill-fated, and fully-iced coconut cake sat and teased his taste buds into a misguided move. As Boz went for the cake, the 65-pound furry anvil tipped the scale in gravity’s favor, and the table, the dog and the cake came crashing down.
Boz, unflustered by his free fall, dispatched the cake like this was his plan all along. With a cravat of whipped cream and goatee of coconut, Boz begrudgingly allowed me to pull him away from his prize, check for injuries, and send him outside while I assessed and cleaned up the damage. Gracie, mere feet away on the sofa, was not to be bothered.
Gracie, ever the lady, prefers naps and placemats to Boz’s brutish ways.
Now you’d think I’d have learned a lesson, but there’s more to share, more to the story of how sometimes we ignore our inner voice of reason and common sense. Perhaps this little public admission (read, humiliation) will help me pay closer attention to the laws of nature (again, human and otherwise) in the future.
Stay tuned for Part II of the Tall Clover Chronicles.
Oh, and for the record, Boz was (as is always the case) forgiven.
You are tearing me up. Never a dull moment with those two. So,now are you ready to write chapter by chapter of the Boz/Gracie Sagas?
Good idea Susan. I’ll talk to them about my ideas for their upcoming book deal. 😉
OH MY GOODNESS! What a happy bulldog you had eating cake!!! That’s worth all the tables in the world! Enjoyed reading this post so very much!
Haha! Life is never dull when you have animals around! I think you could do a video series, of Boz as he demonstrates his athletic prowess in pursuit of the next whipped cream bestowed prize. Of course, the video would have to be over-dubbed with the audio of those scooby doo legs peeling out across a slick floor. I swear I could hear that in my head as read this. Too funny! 😆
Oh goodness, isn’t it amazing how limber they get when we’re not watching?!
Boz.. oh Boz. Well – at least now the table is in better shape! I feel bad about the crystal and the coconut cake tho…And there is no room to hold grudges. Not when there’s a burp in your face as an apology. ♥
I can’t wait for part II!
Very funny story and pictures. Reminds me of the Irish setter from my childhood who had a special love of fresh apple pie cooling on the kitchen table.
…”cravat of whipped cream and goatee of coconut”… Tom, in this heat your blog should come with a health warning. I need a lie down from the lack of oxygen and aching sides. Cream clogged ears indeed!!!!! That dawg…
I can’t even imagine what else they were up to. This was hilarious except for the loss of such a treat, the cake, that is.
I can’t help but chuckle, imagining that seen 🙂
This post should come with a warning: Do not attempt to drink liquids while reading. Author will not be responsible for keyboard damage caused by spit takes or coffee being laughed through noses.
Boz is a man after my own heart!
You need to write a children’s book about the daily escapades of Boz and Gracie (altho’ it seems to be just Boz), with hand-drawn, watercolor illustrations! It seems like your story lines would be endless (thanks again to Boz)… He is so lucky he wasn’t hurt when the table and cake came crashing down!
I have quietly shooed the (how did you get up here?) dog off the kitchen table, rinsed the roast off and served it to unsuspecting family and friends in the dinning room. All is always forgiven.
Hahahahahahhaha,…You can stories about & in your household very well! 🙂 I loved reading every word of it! I loved your pics too, especially the last one! 🙂
Have a great relaxing weekend! 🙂
Tom…this is too funny! Mercy, that would be one heck of a mess to clean up….glad Boz is forgiven. 🙂
You did it again, Tom. (So did you, Boz). Another great story. I didn’t even need your photos. Your description was so vivid — and hilarious! But keep taking photos, they’re great too.
he’s such a BAD BOY! Still cracks me up.
In spite of all the trouble, it’s still a very cool table!