Last night, or rather this morning (around 4 am) Bentley wanted to go out. Experience has taught that when he wants to go out during the night he's either heard something or he needs to pee. At 4 am I'm not going to try to determine which of these reasons is applicable. So, stumbling out of bed and ricocheting down the hallway, I opened the front door to let him out, and as usual Belle, the walking disaster, had to go out too.
I had just got my body temperature back up to toasty under the doona (there's no central heating here, so the house gets pretty cold during the night) when I heard a blood curdling wail of pain (now, if I was Elmer Fudd talking about precipitation in a bucket, that would have been a pail of wain). I sprang out of bed and tried to find something to put on my feet, and after finding the most inappropriate footwear possible, I grabbed a torch (flashlight) and headed out into the freezing darkness.
By now the yelping had stopped, so I didn't quite know which way to head. Luckily Bentley started barking so I just followed his noise, shining the light along the fence as I went. After a couple of minutes, something caught my eye, but I couldn't quite make out what it was. It looked like a piece of rope or something hanging from the top of the mesh. As I got closer I began to realise that it was Belle's tail! And instead of her normally pretty face looking back at me, it was her sphincter staring at the sky.
Her foot had got caught in the top of the mesh as she was climbing over the fence to chase whatever was on the other side, so now she was just hanging there, upside down, by her back leg, not moving or making a sound. When I tried to get her foot loose (Kevin Bacon 1984), she started thrashing wildly and I was really concerned that she'd cause further damage. Her foot was wedged tight, and I couldn't be sure which leg it was, as the torch was getting dimmer, plus she was hanging on the other side of the fence so I couldn't get a good look, I just hoped it wasn't the broken one. After both of us struggling for a minute or two, I realised there was no way I could get free her using my bare hands, so I did what any person caught in this situation would do, I panicked and started flaying my arms wildly in a pretty impressive impersonation of one of those gizmos they have at car yards, you know those things that look like 20 ft tall, skinny disco dancers, with the air blower making them wave their arms like a crazy person panicking at the sight of their dog hanging from a fence.
I knew immediately that I'd have to cut the wire to get her out (or so it seemed, but who knows exactly how long it took my sleep befuddled brain to come up with a plan), so rather than calmly turn around and head for the house to get some wire cutters, I spun around and started running. It should be noted here, that the only thing missing was some guy with a set of bongos adding the sound effects to my performance of a cartoon character trying to get from under the 1000lb weight that was about to be dropped on them. My legs were pumping like crazy, but I didn't seem to be going anywhere. Then without warning (to be honest, I've never heard of a pair of slip-ons ever actually warning anyone of anything) I somehow managed to give my slip-ons the slip, which had the effect of making my feet go in the opposite direction to my body. I lurched forward ending up sprawled flat on my face on the cold, wet, dog shit infested grass. The torch landed about 15 feet away and bounced a further 5 feet or so…then everything went dark.
My initial response was to wallow in self pity at my predicament, and that's what I would have done had I not remembered why I was out there in the first place, so cutting my wallowing short, I managed to get to my feet and make it, shoeless, back to the house. Grabbing the wire cutters (I know it sounds hard to believe, but I knew exactly where they were!), I raced back out to free shitforbrains. With the right tool it didn't take too long at all, and minutes later we were all back in the house wondering what the fuck had just happened.
Belle was pretty shaken up by the whole nasty affair, but as a result of the escapade, we now share a strong bond. Not because I rescued her yet again, but because when I did my starting dive for the 100m freestyle, I damaged my knee, so now neither of us can bend our left leg! (The freestyle was once known as the Australian Crawl, long before the eponymous band. Well, technically it's the swimming stroke that's eponymous, seeing as how it gave it's name to the band and not vice versa (which, incidentally, does not mean pornographic poetry), but I couldn't be bothered reworking the sentence. You're welcome to have a go at it yourself)*.
Anyhoo, she seems to be none the worse for wear this morning, I wish I could say the same for me, my knee is killing me.
This adds absolutely nothing to the post…
* for those keeping score, that soliloquy (if I had actually been going somewhere with it, it would have been a segue) had two sets of parentheses (one of which was nested), six commas (not all of which were really necessary), five apostrophes (one of which was possessive), one word (used twice) of Greek etymology**, two Latin words (making a phrase still in use today), three full stops (periods) and an asterisk. Quite a smorgasbord of punctuation don't you think? And yet even with all those English language tools, none of it made any sense whatsoever.
** etymology is also of Greek etymology.
Filed under: Belle's misadventures |