Everyone who knows me is fully aware that the pecking order in my house is not typical of most families. Unless your house and family are built around a four-legged creature with fur, then my home is probably a whole lot like yours.
More than 14 years ago, our family was blessed with one beautiful little ball of fluff and while he’s grown bigger, and certainly older, he’s still the 20-pound heartbeat of our house.
I work from my home office, so the aged pup spends his days nestled at my feet. The second my overnight bag is hauled out of the closet, this pooch sits excitedly by the door because he knows we’re heading towards Green’s Harbour where he then answers to a different name. His Royal Highness Jack Tessier, as he is known in many circles, instantly transforms and answers to, BBD; Bad Bay Dog.
He turns into a meadow hopping, selectively hearing, flower soiling pup. And he couldn’t be happier!
Everyone knows how important this doggie is to me. Well, just about everyone.
Two weeks ago, one of our sons was looking for a rare ride home for him and a couple of friends. No sweat. Hubby and I hopped in the car, happy to help. Never one to miss a ride in the car, Jack was on board as well.
One of those friends is a lovely young woman who works with our son. She instantly took to Jack the second she got in the vehicle and he seemed happy enough with the attention. So, she started taking to him. General niceties; “You’re such a sweet dog!” Yup, he is. “Such a good pup!” Indeed, she must be very intuitive. “And, poor baby, I heard you got locked outside the other night.”
Instantly, hubby, our son and the other friends started speaking very loudly about anything they could think of, in hopes of either distracting or making light of what had just been revealed for the first time … to me.
I went to my parents’ house one night last weekend and decided to leave Jack home with the family. After 14 years, you’d think that would be safe.
Turns out, not so much.
Apparently hubby and our youngest son came home late that weekend night. Jack was in the car with them, and when they came home, each of them thought the other person let him in the house.
They were both oh so wrong.
Our oldest son came home some time afterward, and there was our poor, senior citizen pup, standing at the front door, scratching ever so gently but persistently on it in hopes of getting in.
Did I mention this was the night we had the torrential downpour of rain?
I wasn’t sure if I should be thankful to our oldest son, appreciative for the honesty of the lovely young woman, or thoroughly ticked at the husband for not only letting this happen or for keeping this from me.
There was a reason we had a car full of young folks, it kept me from making away with hubby, and by the time we dropped the last person home, even I was laughing at the accidental situation.
The poor young lady was mortified. The crackerjacks in the car didn’t help her with all the banter and teasing about letting this deep dark secret out. But unlike the rest of the folks in the car, most of whom are my immediate family, she clearly had much more honest intentions.
Because I’m the wife and mother ship, this motley crew is part of me, but perhaps she should reconsider the company she keeps. Until then, at least I now feel quite confident that there’s another set of eyes keeping close watch on my pup.
Email Paula Tessier at firstname.lastname@example.org.