I understand those that read this blog. They are the salt of the earth. My readers aren’t afraid to let their kids play in the dirt, understand that there’s not always going to be a port-a-potty or a sink around the corner, and most of them learned about the “Birds and Bees” almost before they could spell. I’ve never put a disclaimer at the start of a blog….but I’m putting a disclaimer in front of this one.
Disclaimer…the word “nuts” will be used in this blog. If talking about “nuts” insults or offend, the writer of this blog is not to be held responsible. I would also encourage you to stop reading at this point, but unfortunately this story is just another day in ranch life.
I’ve mentioned Ryan’s dog a couple of times before. He’s been affectionately called the “Red Headed Stepchild” among many others that would take more than a disclaimer to repeat. Well, he topped himself the last couple days.
I returned home from the Nebraska Cattlemen Convention Friday afternoon. It was a whirlwind convention and I was physically and mentally exhausted. I drove past our house around 5:30 enroute to the Main Place and didn’t notice a certain German Shorthair standing by the garage. After filling up the Boss Man and his wife on all of the excitement of the week and catching up on what had been happening in my absence, I returned to the casa to find….no dog.
I made a phone call to the Boss Man.
No dog.
I made a phone call to Grandma.
No dog.
Ryan walked in.
No dog.
So, we spent the next two hours looking for the mutt. We drove to the Main Place, Grandma’s, the shop, the garage, the barns, the feedlot and even five miles north to the Uncles’.
I’m hoarse from hollering “Indy, Indy”
No dog.
We returned home defeated, and said a couple of prayers that he would survive the below zero temps until we could try and track him in the morning.
Well, the renegade showed up in the morning at the Main Place with the Uncle’s dog affectionately named the “one nut wonder” or Jimmy. Now Jimmy is an interesting story. He was “gifted” to the Uncle’s family. He has a funny attitude, one that you never know if he is going to lick you or bite you. We’ve also had to
get every other female on the place spayed because of the “one nut wonder”. Well Indy and Jimmy decided that they were now best buds. The unfortunate part for Indy is that the great outdoors didn’t provide the shelter of his cozy kennel and he frost bit the disclaimer. After licking the disclaimer for two day’s straight I finally called the vet. The vet recommended bringing him in. I found a collar and a leash that fit and after tackling and dragging the 75lb mutt into the front seat of the pickup, I drove my exhausted butt into town.
We showed up at the clinic. I went around the passenger side, grabbed the leash and 75lbs of dog was in the big city. He went one way, I was pulling the other. I called him names, he whined. I won the battle to the front door. Yet somehow I walked into the clinic with the leash around my back, and wrapped not once, but twice around one of my legs. Indy promptly went over to the front of the receptionist desk and peed. I happily handed him over.
I stopped by Ryan’s job and made sure he knew the trouble his dog was in. Ryan threw out the “n” word. Yes, my husband finally said neutered, and in reference to his dog. There might of been some groveling and begging on his part to make sure I picked back up Indy. I returned to the vet clinic a couple hours later. The mutt was in the kennel with a plastic collar around his neck (I was really hoping for a lampshade). We proceeded to get out of the vet clinic with instructions and minor damage. Well, except for the $125 bill, thanks to the Uncle’s “one nut wonder.”
Indy was not very happy with me, so I called Ryan on the way home to fill him in on instructions, well and to tattle on his kid, because mine would never do all of this. The conversation went like this…
Me: “Well, Dr. Y. said antibiotics once a day and twice a day you need to rub gel on the disclaimer.”
Ryan: “I wonder how he’s going to deal with that when you do it.”
Me: “Me???? That’s your dog, and even if it wasn’t your dog I have a coupon in the house that says I can use it for whatever, and gel on the disclaimer definitely classifies as whatever.”
Ryan: “How am I going to do that in the dark?”
Me: “RYAN, I AM NOT PUTTING GEL ON YOUR DOG’S NUTS!”
I’m not for sure how this is going to end up, I guess we will find out in the morning. But, the “n” word might start to get used a little more freely around here!
