Translate

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Vile Yellow Spray



If you need a goal in life - might I suggest one?

Today our family was pepper sprayed.  

Actually only one of us was, the dog – but it quickly became a family affair.  

Our dog, like the millions of other dogs in this world, does not like the mail carrier.  Her sweet, calm, loving, gentle self turns into a growling 45lb mass, with hair that stands up on her back when she sees the mailman.  Lately this has not really been an issue; we moved the mailbox to the end of the driveway so the mail carrier no longer needs to come up on the porch, thus the dog no longer hits the window snarling because the mailman isn’t close to the house.

Ah, but today, today is Saturday and she was outside hanging in the yard, having a sniff of stuff here, a sniff of stuff over there and suddenly a sniff of the mailman walking up to the mail box……

I hear the growl, I fly and I do mean fly, out of the house, but I am too late – she is already covered in yellow stuff and the mail carrier is screaming “Is this your dog???!!!”

I grab her collar, drag her up the drive, holler at the hubby she’s been pepper sprayed and head back out to the mail carrier who is out of breath and none too happy.  She hands me the mail and tells me “Dogs don’t usually charge me” (she's got three bad legs and a terrible limp, "charge" is a bit dramatic, but she does have a fierce growl).  I apologize and head in – completely unaware of the fun about to befall us.

Hubby is wiping her face off with a cloth and trying to calm the doggie down.  I grab her from the underside, pick her up and head for the tub, but I’m gagging before I get there and drop her unceremoniously into the tub – she slips (it’s sad, she’s old), hubby and I start gagging profusely. 

I’m having a hard time finding the faucet and then getting a temperature that’s good for the water; my husband is sick hanging over the toilet.  Finally we start to rinse her, she shakes – all hell breaks loose…… 

Once she shakes, the pepper stuff gets in our eyes, we can’t see, I can’t function, I can’t find the sink to wash my face, I can’t even stand up, I want the eye cup, a wash cloth, the shower head, anything.  Snot is hanging from my face.  Hubby is gagging, I don’t know what he is going through, but he still has a hold of her in the tub, I am useless fumbling for something to hold water to dump on my face.

A few minutes pass, water has been flung multiple times into my eyes, they now open, we find the shampoo and start washing the very unhappy dog – hubby is now off on his can’t function flop somewhere in the too small bathroom.  Every so often I just turn the sprayer to my eyes; the bathroom is a hazmat water wonderland disaster area.

My nose is a giant tomato, my red faced hacking husband returns, we finish up, remove everything cloth that came into contact with her, collar the dog with a different collar, change clothes, I hit the washing machine, he takes her outside to shake.  

My arms are on fire, the hanging snot doesn’t stop flowing for at least twenty minutes (if I were an eight year old boy that would have been really cool) hubby hasn’t been able to get a full breath for at least as long, his hands are swollen.  

Dog, well dog is just standing there, cold, wet, red eyed, stunned, shaking and sadly fourteen years old – no idea what just happened, why it happened and why she still can’t open her eyes – I pick her back up and we go for round two in the tub…. 

This house now has a family goal – we aspire to never, ever, come in contact with pepper spray again.  Ever!    

Might I suggest this as a very wise goal for you and your family too??

No comments:

Post a Comment