Holy Crap

Speaking of Da Vinci, our "sugar coated" dog, he is big. No, he is huge and weighs about 110 pounds. Me oh my, is he ever strong. I have been bucked off, knocked over and smashed more times than I could count. If we had purchased him as a full grown dog, I would have been terrified, but he was a puppy and I learned to love this dog and grow with him. I am sure he was just as afraid of others as they are of him. The moment there was a knock at the door, he would race to his kennel. Then, Da Vinci would scoot to the back as far as he could and bark incessantly as if to say, "get away . . .you frighten me. . . don't you dare get near me." Others perceive his bark as, "I am going to eat you up, tear you to shreds, and throw your remains to the birds." Da Vinci is also very protective and if there is even the appearance of someone hurting Noah, Da Vinci is there with a vengence ready to nip and defend .

At our home, we take turns taking Da Vinci out. It is not my favorite of duties, but I would rather do that than clean up his duty inside the home. We are sure to put him on the leash so that he will not go after someone or something . . . or run away for that matter. For the most part, it has not been a problem. I have more trouble getting him back into the kennel. When Rick is away, I cross my fingers that I will be able to find something in which to bribe him. I have been late for work a few times while I waited for Rick to come home and do what I couldn't do . .  put Da Vinci in the kennel. The bribe used to work beautifully, but he was on to me. I would throw the treat into his kennel. Rather than obediently stepping into his kennel, he would put two paws in and leave two paws out. That way, he could still have the treat and I was unable to shut the kennel door. The moment the kennel door begins to shut, he would push his big rumbumpus up against me and pull a reverse.

One particular weekend Rick was out of town. My biggest worry was seeing that Da Vinci made it back into the kennel before Church started. Noah and I were already running late. I was dressed in a skirt, white dress sandals with a heel, and my hair completely finished. I had leashed Da Vinci. All seemed to be running smoothly. He stopped abrubtly. His ears perked up and then without warning took off full speed after a cat he had spotted. I screamed at Da Vinci while holding on to his leash with all my my might. I could not keep up with him in my Sunday shoes and yet I was unwilling to let go. The cat jumped the fence and so Da Vinci made a sharp u-turn. At that moment, I envisioned myself at the end of a long line of people at Classic Skate. The good old " CRACK the WHIP " game.  I flew and I mean my feet left the ground. It all happened so quickly. I landed on the blue wheelbarrow and down into a pile of Da Vinci's poop . . . his crap! I was hurt something awful and I did not even know how to explain what happened to my pride. The next thing I knew, Da Vinci was chasing that cat down the street. I could hear Da Vinci's nails on the concrete. I stood, brushed off my knees and went to retrieve that darn dog. I was still shaking. I looked over the wall and thought, "that cat is toast . What will I tell the cat's owner? Will Da Vinci even come back? "

Da Vinci did come back and fortunately without a cat. I grabbed his leash and immediately took him inside. Noah had been waiting to put Da Vinci in the kennel so we could worship on the Lord's holy day.  I had holy crap that needed to be wiped off. After I had cleaned up and my knees had stopped shaking, Noah and I headed for church. . . Da Vinci of course would be in the dog house with me for months to come.