Thursday, May 15, 2008

Wonderpet Powers, Activate!

Before I go into all this, let me say that all parties involved are still alive. That is, unless I give in to the urge to kill them before you read this.

Since we moved, we have been having some problems with the pets. They seem to have, among other things, developed the ability to fly, pass through walls, and yes, even ingest the utterly indigestible in a single bound. I do not know how this has happened, and as yet no human occupant of the house has developed similar characteristics. However, I provide the following cases in point of proof of my assertions:

-- Tuesday, 3pm, May 13th--
All is quiet as I unpack yet another box while wondering if they have started to repack themselves, since I am sure I have taken these very things out of a box just the day before. I realize with a shock that it IS quiet. Too quiet. Our house is never quiet. The kids are at school, yes, but something is amiss. I listen closer, and hear frantic whining that I had previously dismissed as being too far away to be MY dogs, who are safely in the back yard, Tyler free and Baci on a lead, since the fence is lower than we would like and while Tyler is old and well-behaved, Baci is young and...well...freaky. However, I decide to go outside and investigate. Imagine my surprise when I find the ONE dog that is still in the yard, Baci, tangled in the chicken wire that spans the unfenced yard-and-a-half near the corner of the yard near the house, all ninety pounds of him, and Tyler, the GOOD ONE, running around like a maniac in the neighbor's yard! ARGH! How on EARTH did they jump up onto the retaining wall between the houses, maneuver the chicken wire, which was pretty secure, so that it would make a pass through, and how on EARTH is it that the LAME dog managed to get through fine while the gigantic PUPPY sits there crying like an idiot? I call Tyler, who sneaks over because he knows he's screwed, and somehow manage to untangle the idiot puppy, who makes himself even more tangled by wriggling all over (which is saying a lot in a dog that large), and haul them into the house, hoping no one noticed their little escapade. At least the cat is normal.

--Tuesday, 4:30pm, March 13--
The new house has two sleeping porches, and I decide to leave the door to the upstairs one open to get some air and to let the dogs sit outside while I unpack the zillion upstairs boxes, all of which are labeled 'Sheets and Misc' (?!?!). I see the cat go outside, and hear her hiss at Baci, who she hates with a passion that would rival the Red Sox' hatred of the Yankees, and think, good, fresh air for the cat, too. The porch has a high, sturdy railing and narrow slats. It's perfectly safe. This is when said cat activates her new superpower, Flying! She leaps to the top of the railing, jumps from our second-story porch into the neighbor's tree, several feet away, and takes off for parts unknown!!!!!!! I finally find her five hours later, covered in dandelion fluff and cobwebs and looking quite pleased with herself. She has since gotten out twice, and we have no idea how, since I have been careful not to let her onto the balcony again. DH thinks she may have found a way to get behind the drywall in the basement to the stone foundation, and may have found an exit that way. I think she is passing through the walls. Cats are demons, anyway, right?

--Tuesday, 7pm, March 13--
We have rotisserie chicken for dinner from supermarket. After dinner, we clear the table of everything but the Remains and various stuffs, which we will get after putting the kids to bed. An hour later, we come back downstairs to discover the carcass is gone without a trace. Nothing else has been disturbed. There is no juice, no gristle, not a shred of meat. We are baffled, and search the house. The only thing I find is Baci, asleep on his back in the kitchen, SNORING. No, it couldn't have been him. How would he have gotten to the middle of the table without a) being completely on it and b)without disturbing anything else? The next morning, however, the proof is in the pudding, so to speak - doggie diarrhea all over the back yard. Thank God for rain.

--Wednesday, 9am, March 14--
Dogs make a break for the neighbors' yard again, regardless of reinforcements performed on fence. The only plausible explanation for this would be invisible opposable thumbs. I once again drag them into the house and sequester them to the entryway and upstairs, since the piano tuner is in the dining room, which adjoins to the living room. I go upstairs to collect laundry, and open stained glass windows in the stairwell; windows have no screens, but are quite high, particularly the one on the first landing. I am not concerned about intruders in our neighborhood, anyway, at least not in broad daylight. After stuffing laundry into machine, I sit down, stare at the wall and drool. From my reverie, I hear a jogger telling something to 'go on - go home!', and get a sinking feeling that something is wrong with the force. I get up, look into the entryway, and sure enough - Baci is gone. The only way he could have gotten out is through the second story stained glass window, which is now pushed all the way open. I go outside, and there is The Dog, running in the neighbor's yard, totally confused as to how to get back here. That makes sense, since the way he got out - through the window onto the lower roof that covers the hot tub area, and then down another FIVE FEET to the ground into the yard next door - wasn't really a feasible way to get back. I drag dog back inside, cursing a blue streak, and begin the process of chipping off the paint from the edges of the window (it had been painted shut initially, so when I opened it there were clumps of paint stuck to it) so I could shut it enough to lock it. As I'm doing this, I hear the piano tuner stop working and say something, so I turn to come downstairs and see what he needs, only to find the door between the kitchen and entryway OPEN. Baci, of course, was in the kitchen, staring at the piano tuner like a lovesick sailor.

So, when you see me on the Discovery Channel pretty soon with my obnoxious Wonderpets, making all kinds of money off of their amazing abilities, please call me and remind me that the money is worth the aggravation, and I shouldn't auction them off to the highest bidder, or give them away on the street along with a $20 for your trouble!


Kristin.... said...

I read this yesterday and just cracked up. Sorry. :) What is up with the pets? That is all too bizarre.

Susiewearsthepants said...

mmmm, maybe they are having some kind of animal moving anxiety? After we moved to another state, our cat wouldn't come out from underneath the bed for two weeks. Then when she did, she got out and disappeared for a week.

Creative Kerfuffle said...

love the pet story. we have two dogs--an australian shepherd that is a bit...uh, mentally handicapped, and a black lab that's pretty lazy. last fall they houdinied our of the fenced in backyard and were gone for two weeks. we scoured the neighborhoods endlessly and the hubs just left the back gate open and voila, there they were. about a month ago my neighbor started calling me every day cos they were getting out again. the shepherd was digging holes, one for her, one for the (rather large) black lab to crawl under the fence. for now they stay in the garage during the day until we can devise an escape-proof backyard.