Posted by Holly Jarrett on 09/29/15
Anyone who has raised children understands the potential for forgotten manners and the resultant embarrassment parents must endure. Apparently, this hazard is inherent in the personas of our fur-covered darlings as well.
To offer a little in the way of background, when we decided to sell our investment property we enlisted the services of a top notch realtor. We purposefully chose this person, whom for privacy sake I shall call Phlegm, based on his large number of listings and sales. We met at the property for a walkthrough, with the next step for him to shoot me an email to set up a time for paperwork at our home.
So, when I looked out the window of our house and saw said realtor heading up the walk, I was totally without a clue. Did I miss his email? Had I forgotten an appointment? Upon reaching our front door, he was met by the “pack of three”, Marley, Tillie and Trudy, barking wildly, clearly elated for this occasion.
“Hi,” I called over the din. Actually, it probably sounded more like “Hi, did I miss something here?”
“Do you want to let the dogs come out here to meet me before I come in?” Phlegm asked.
With my mind working fast, wondering if this man was truly a realtor or just a serial killer, I finally explained that it would be okay. I would put the only one who might be nippy in his cage (this would be Marley). Phlegm came in and with a combination of the expression on my face with my attire (hardly business casual) he finally inquired, “Did you not get my text?”
The subsequent five minutes were filled with apologies, projected over the baleful sounds emanating from the cage of the Hound of the Baskervilles (this would also be Marley).
I wish I could say that this was “that” experience of embarrassment. Nope. I also need to say in my defense that Marley is a work in progress. As a rescue he came with his issues, one of which is distrust of strangers. But, that’s for another blog.
So, what happens when your entire household of pets loses those manners you have worked so hard to instill?
With a new meeting arranged, I vowed that this time would be different. We would present ourselves as a sane family with well-mannered pets. We sequestered Trudy in the bedroom. I instructed Mark to hold Marley on his leash in the other room while I answered the door. He would then bring Marley in, who would have an initial bark and we would all be able to move on. I grabbed a handful of treats as a Marley reward to stop barking and went to greet our guest.
“Hi Phlegm, good to see you again,” I stated in my best we’re a normal family voice.
“You too,” returned Phlegm, as he reached out to shake my hand. Of course, that wasn’t going to happen because my hand was now full of dog treats.
“I can’t shake your hand,” I apologized, “it’s full of dog treats.” My confession was met with a look that read “Uh oh, here we go again.”
I ushered him in and as he passed into the foyer Tilley scooted out past him, depositing her plump self in the yard, where she proceeded to locate tasty morsels of yuck to consume.
“Phlegm, this is my husband Mark,” I began, and then true to form Marley rendered a voluminous greeting, dispelling any hope that this might be a quick effective training session. I took Marley and offered him treats for silence, and as the men headed into the dining room I called Tillie inside.
“Where shall I sit?” asked Phlegm as we convened at the dining room table?
I pointed to the nearest chair and invited him to have a seat. “There will be fine…,” I started, my words cut short by a blur of yellow fur, attached to a portly form as Tillie literally flew as if possessed across the top of the dining room table, her legs flailing madly in an effort to gain traction on the linen table cloth. The momentum of her drive landed her directly in the face of her unsuspecting victim. As a look of horror mixed with disgust evolved on his face Tillie delivered her wettest kiss squarely on his O-shaped lips.
“Oooh my!” exclaimed Phlegm as both Mark and I stood frozen, mouths agape, incredulous to what we had just witnessed. We were never going to convince him that this was a first.
Meanwhile, back in the bedroom, bird dog Trudy was howling. Not just your run of the mill howling. No, this was an all-out, “why in the heck am I back here alone missing all the fun” kind of howling. Figuring at this point we didn’t have a whole lot to lose, I let her out of her prison. With an exuberance not witnessed in perhaps five to seven years, she came bounding at full throttle into the den, joined by now liberated Marley, both barking at an ear-piercing volume, as they celebrated Trudy’s new found freedom.
Any hope of the normal family portrayal was gone.
We completed our paperwork and as the evening wrapped up, Jacob our 17-year-old human child returned home. Here was our redemption. Jake’s stellar people skills would certainly impress.
“Hi, Jake, we’re in here,” I called into the foyer hopefully. As he joined us in the dining room, I noted a look of disgust on his face.
“There’s dog poop in the den,” he stated flatly, and then “what’s for dinner?”
So, there you have it. Apparently, it doesn’t matter sometimes how much you train them. There will be those times when they go rogue. There will be those times when they go rogue all at the same time. We, as parents, can only endure.
Lil’ Buddies would love to meet you and your furry children. We serve the Matthews region, as well as Aboretum, Southpark, Indian Trail, Ballantyne and Southeast Charlotte. Call Holly at (704) 779-7256 today for a complementary consultation.