Monday, September 8, 2008

In Case You Thought She'd Forgotten Him


Now, there is someone in the Matron's household--beside her daughter--who is more delicate than that Princess who discerned a pea. Someone in her house is adept at the creature comfort, at seeking out the 300 count cotton sheet, demanding the truffle when plain old chocolate would do.

And that someone would Be Satan's Familiar.

Yesterday was a typical day for the Henchman.

He woke and was fed. After making speedy dispatch with his own bowl of nuggets, he made a bold attempt at the deaf-blind Jekyll's feast. Luckily, the Matron stood her usual guard because she just doesn't want this dog to live so long (15.5 years and ticking), only to die of starvation.

The Matron's not sure what he did while they were at the Zen Center, but the entire family spent no small amount of time looking for Merrick's sandal upon their return. You see, S.F. has taken to the fine art of Shoe Theft and Concealment. Only plastic, stupid things that the children rely on and adore, like crocs. The Matron finds them, weeks later, half-eaten, underneath beds, in closets or uncleaned corners and crannies.

Later, the Matron went to the store where she purchased some pastries: long johns, raised glazed donuts, chocolate with sprinkles. One for every child. She set the bag on the dining room table and went about her business.

Insert theme song from Jaws.


When she could not find that bag anywhere not much later, she interrogated each of her children in turn: "Did you take those donuts?"

Could it possibly be the hand of the Devil, again? But the absence of evidence, the empty bag, bothered the Matron. But as she was scanning the house yet one more time, it hit her. The dog door! She opened the human door that's right next to the dog one and sure enough -- one empty, wrinkled abandoned bag (from Woulletts, for the locals). Score one for Satan.

When the Matron went on her daily run, she considered not taking Satan's Familiar, as punishment. But she knows that what goes in, must come out and pastries with chocolate will come out as diarrhea.

Better outdoors than in.

So even though rain is imminent and the Matron dislikes running the rain, she leashes up her favorite Henchman and off they go! Now, if so much as a stick, a twig, a tiny teeny leaf gets snarled in SF's furry little hair, he refuses to move. He sits down and holds up his paw for help or rolls over: taket his pea off of me!

There is much stopping and plucking and doggy hair repair.

Then, the rain comes! The rain comes and it is decidedly not torrential, but wet. They get wet. And Satan's Familiar? It turns out that he cannot tolerate rain, not one bit. He sits beside a tree and refuses to budge. A very exasperated Matron pulls and pulls on that leash, to no avail. That doggie ain't walkin'.

So the Matron picks up her special gift from the Devil and carries him home, careful to cover his snout so he doesn't get wet.


The children were outraged! How could their mother subject the beloved to--water! Weather! Potentially dangerous Exposure, in general. They fed him treats, rubbed his belly and Merrick engaged his dog in a rounding game of Police, a game in which S.F. is jailed, escapes, chased, captured and jailed again. This keeps both of them busy, for hours.

And after sitting on Stryker's lap all through dinner before the Matron really noticed? He curled up for a good long sleep, right on the Matron's pillow.



Just another day in the life of Satan's Familiar.

16 comments:

Cheri @ Blog This Mom! said...

That was a "tale" wagger.

Sorry.

But it was.

Cheri @ Blog This Mom! said...

Oh, and in answer to your last comment, I think I have mentioned that your oldest and my youngest are MFEO, although at their tender ages, the age difference is too much, for him. In about ten years, if they ever meet, we will be in-laws.

smalltownmom said...

Long Johns? I learn something new every day.

Did he ever do his business outside or is was another disaster for you to write about?

Julie said...

I think, deep down, you secretly love this dog...if only for the blogging tales! :)

Daisy said...

Oh, our sweet little "innocent" animals. My not-so-innocent is a rabbit. When daughter is living here, it's three rabbits.

hippyhappyhay said...

LOL! I would have loved to see you carrying that damn dog through the rain home. Perhaps you were a cat last time around.
This morning Gilby has chased the mailman, eaten two bed covers and a hundred snotty tissues. Why didn't I just get a fish?

Jason said...

Such evil.

Hen said...

I think Satan has read "One Hundred Ways For A Dog To Train It's Human" by Simon Waley

....
"If your human encourages you to eat your dinner, particularly after a visit to the vet, treat the contents of your dog bowl with care. Look for unusual added ingredients. If at all unsure, eat what you can, then vomit it up immediatley on the lounge carpet."

sound familiar?

witchypoo said...

I loves me some Satan's Familiar. I was worried about him eating chocolate, and where he might have deposited the "end" result.

Professor J said...

I must admit I love that dog.

Green Girl in Wisconsin said...

He looks positively smug.

Jenn @ Juggling Life said...

I'm beginning to think you secretly love that dog.

Ree said...

And we all know how yummy a wet dog smells.
;-)

allmycke said...

You know, I think you love that dog just as much as I love my Tjorro. Dumb as a door handle but cute and adorable. Not to mention great blog-fodder!
(Formerly of Life after AC)

Lynda said...

SF looks so much like our sorely-missed Greta... she was a food thief, too. One time, when my husband turned his back, she took his bacon-wrapped filet. Of course, he shouldn't have left it at dog-level. She also ate his mother's uncut homemade cake one early Sunday morning... SF and Greta must be cousins...

JCK said...

I just love these SF stories!