Boz and the stoop in drier times
Bulldogs Will Be Bulldogs…
There is a fine line between lazy and smart; doing less to get more is called efficiency is it not? So I like to think of my compadres Boz and Gracie as masterful behavioral psychologists, furry little savants always finding ways to have me do more for them on a daily basis. Lazy or Smart, you decide. As an example, you may recall the story of their morning routine. Now I’d like to share the new rainy day routine, that is new as of yesterday and hopefully short-lived.
I took the 5:45 a.m. ferry into Seattle to make sure I would have enough time to make a 7:30 a.m. dentist appointment. The crossing is the easy part, Seattle traffic is the challenge. Commuters were braving a real gully-washer that morning, not the gentle daylong moisturizing mist we usually enjoy. One thing was for sure, as a man without a raincoat or umbrella, my dousing was imminent.
Hours later I returned to the island and a gentler weather pattern. I grabbed my purchased mainland provisions,including a 25-pound bag of sugar (it’s jam-making season) and other sundries from the car, and headed for the back door (my entrance of choice). Up two stairs to the stoop, and I was already calling Boz and Gracie as I pushed the mudroom door open.
Both squeezed through the kitchen dog door (like toothpaste through a tube) to the mudroom where I was now standing. Bulldog butts a wagging, sloppy snorts a welcoming, Boz and Gracie were excited to see me, but came no closer. At that moment, my nose picked up the powerful force field that kept them at bay: the poo on my shoe.
Exasperated, I set my supplies down, and turned to look behind me. It was all too clear what Boz had done. (Gracie is too much a lady for this exploit.) Off to do his business, Boz must have exited the mudroom dog door during the morning torrent, only to find the makings of water world before him. No problem for the wily pooch. He turned around on the covered stoop and backed up its edge like a dump truck in reverse (beep, beep, beep), and proceeded to unload his cargo on the step below, all before wedging his way back through the dog door to the coziness of his favorite sofa. Dry, relieved, and back inside, Boz resumed his nap, his mission accomplished while mine within seconds of my return home.
There is a silver lining though, while my porch and shoes needed immediate attention, two back molars should be good for decades to come and jam making is on the kitchen agenda.
Oh and I do have another funny story about gassy bulldogs and dinner guests, but I’ll save that indignity for another day.