Anna, the Pugpoo Pikachu, is the best advertisement for puppies that one could possibly concoct. Simply walking down the street with her is enough to garner dozens of “ooh”s and “aah”s and, of course, “where did you get that puppy?”s and “are there any more left?”s. I got her from my mother, I would tell them, and there were, I think, about eight of them. And then there were three. Then two. And finally there was only one more puppy left: Anna’s brother Curly. And after bringing Anna in for an oft-demanded visit to my wife’s office, her co-worker called dibs on this final fellow, and that was that.
Last night my kids had a camp-out in my mother’s yard, so when I dropped them off it was the perfect time to pick up Curly and take him to his new family. First I traded my cats for a puppy, and now I was trading my children for a second one. Luckily I would be getting my children back though, so I kissed them goodbye and headed home with two puppies in my car.
Anna and Curly were very happy to see one another. This was good news, since Anna is typically terrified of other dogs. To be fair, most other dogs could eat her up in one bite, but either way it was still nice to see her happily playing with another dog at this mini canine family reunion. I had been provided one cat carrier in which to hold both of them, but it was very squishy in there with two dogs, even tiny puppy dogs, and I didn’t think it would be very nice to let one of them out while the other one was still trapped, so I let them both out. This was a mistake.
Anna climbed up behind my head and nuzzled down in back of me as soon as I started the car and pulled out. Curly didn’t do too much until I had been on the road for about five minutes, at which point he started pooping all over the passenger seat of the car, emitting at least twice his own body weight in gooey green feces while yipping furiously. Awesome. I tried to think of something to do as I drove down the state highway at 55 mph, but as it turns out I didn’t have to do anything. Curly decided to get rid of that poop for me, by falling over in a panic, rolling and stomping in it, and then running all around the car before jumping onto my lap in an epic freakout of disgusting horror.
I decided that perhaps I ought to pull over, since I was swerving all over the place anyway, and I found small road to turn onto, stopped the car, and tried to contain the curly ball of stench dispersal. Anna continued to be quite happy cuddling my spine, but Curly, having never been in a car before, was still bouncing around like a germ spreading maniac. I went to grab the leash that had the doggie-doo bags attached, and found the last one, trying to scoop up as much of the poop off of the seat as I could. For the first time in forever I found myself wishing I was still in the throes of our diaper bag days, as I rifled through the glove compartment looking for anything to help me clean this crap up.
With most of the poop now securely in the little blue baggie, I produced a Dunkin Donuts napkin and opened up my water bottle to try and do some damage control. I poured a bit of water onto the seat and started scrubbing away at the poop, which is precisely when a car honked at me and I realized that I was partially blocking this little side road that I had desperately turned down, and now somebody needed to get through. I dropped my water bottle onto the seat and moved the car forward a couple of yards, which is when I realized that I had not screwed the top back onto the water bottle.
Water had poured all over the seat, into the poopy blue baggie, and filled up the cup holder that was currently holding, not a cup, but my phone and my iPod. Cursing loudly I pulled my two most expensive and frequently used electronic devices out of the pool of water that they were sitting in and tried to dry them off as the poop water ran everywhere. I opened the glove box again, but believe me, there were not enough napkins to deal with this.
I managed to get the poop bag tied off with only about two inches of water in the bottom of it, and I sopped and scrubbed as much ruination as I could from the passenger seat, although the cup holders still had about three inches of water in them. I really wanted to wash my hands, but there were no restrooms in the glove box, or anywhere else nearby, so I drove home the rest of the way with Anna behind me and Curly nervously shaking on my lap, praying that my phone would still work. Luckily, tt did. Also, it smelled bad.
When I dropped Curly off at my wife’s work, I did not mention any of this to his new owner, other than to say that he did not need to take the dog out right away probably, since he had gone fairly recently. Although I did mention to my wife as we left for our lunch date that maybe she wanted to drive, and not sit in the passenger’s seat. Also, one puppy is enough I have decided. And I can’t wait to get my kids back.