A Wearisome Day for Wonderbutt
Cap’n Firepants is a great husband.
Exhibit A: he did not even question me at 5:30 a.m. when I walked into our bedroom at The Ranch, woke him up, and said it was his turn to dog-sit Wonderbutt and Mrs. P.I.B. He didn’t exactly spring out of the bed, but he slowly got up and went out into the living room to take his shift.
Exhibit B: he did not wake me up when everyone else in the household decided to go feed the horses. I had gotten to do that with The Dictator the night before.
Unfortunately, the Cap’n also didn’t tell me that “everyone” also meant the five dogs.
- Missed Wonderbutt’s first off-leash romp at The Ranch,
- Missed Wonderbutt’s first encounter with two horses and a donkey,
- Missed two of The Dictator’s dogs leaping into the horse trough for a swim,
- AND missed the five dogs romping at the tank (what we Texans call a puddle masquerading as a pond).
Cap’n Firepants took pictures, thankfully. And I related in yesterday’s post how Wonderbutt reacted to the horse.
I was bummed about missing the exploits at the tank, but apparently Wonderbutt merely waded through the water. A disappointing No Big Deal.
I somewhat berated Cap’n Firepants for leaving me out of the fun. Probably a lot less “beration” than he would have received for waking me up to go with them. He’s smart that way.
After everyone got done telling me what I’d missed, it was decided that this would be a fine time to set up the Slip n’ Slide for the girls.
I don’t know where I went. But I reappeared about ten minutes after setup had ensued and, once again, had missed all of the excitement. Wonderbutt had decided to follow the girls down the Slip n’ Slide. Cap’n Firepants had somehow managed to quickly transform from Slide-Setter-Upper to Photographer. But still pictures don’t really do justice to a bulldog slippin’ and slidin’. By the time I arrived, Wonderbutt had tired of this exercise and decided he would much rather eat the plastic. Or attack the girls as they flew down the lane.
I feel a little disingenuous blogging about events that I didn’t exactly witness, so I was beginning to feel frustrated with the day. I decided it was time to kick some butt in Scrabble.
The Dictator, Nigella, and I had a fierce game. It was the closest ever. After a year of solely playing Words with Friends, we all had to brush up on the “real rules”. When push came to shove, though, Nigella won, beating both of us by five points. I hate people who can cook and beat me at Scrabble. My disappointing day continued.
For the rest of the day, I was on the alert for blog-worthy adventures. I really got my hopes up when Wonderbutt finally encountered Lulubelle, The Ranch Cat. He approached her, got too close, and she hissed and batted at him with her paw. Pretty much End of Story. Didn’t even have time to grab my camera.
That night, Cap’n Firepants fell asleep in the living room – which I took to be his agreement to take the first dog-sitting shift. Closing the door firmly on Mrs. P.I.B.and her eternal panting, I gratefully sunk into the bed, resolved to find something to blog about on our last day – or to make up something.