THE BUD SAGA - PART 7

I can’t complain – I’ve had more than one night in a row of long sleeps which, for me, is a rare occurrence. Yesterday I was kicked out of Paradise by Murphy. I arrived home only around 10 PM. It was a late return from the city, then I stopped off to see my niece, Julie, to wish her Happy Birthday. I was only there for about 30 minutes, and was ready for bed by the time I got home. Sleep happened for one whole hour, then Murphy rudely disappeared, and there was no more until 6 AM this morning, when it was time to get up!!

I was planning on going to the office later today anyway. My truck has a shimmy, and I’m not sure if it’s snow or ice in the tires, or something else. It is the something else that worries me, so my intentions were to stop at the garage before going to the office. Guess it will be on the way home, because I am late, late, late. I’m waiting on a fax now, and as soon as it arrives, I’m off to the city.

Here’s the next chapter of the Bud Saga.

YOU WANT ME TO BABY-SIT WHAT??? - And it begins...

It was far too early for a beer buzz, weekend or not. I decided to take advantage of the sun shining in these wide open spaces. I lived downtown in a huge city where walking consists of negotiating slushy sidewalks, tall buildings and many other jostling bodies. Strolling on this property in virgin snow was going to be a delight! The dogs joyfully accompanied me - the pit, of course, pushing past us to get out first. I hesitated about leaving him loose, then remembered my friend telling me he would be okay as long as he wasn’t alone.

We spent most of the weekend outdoors, with Ben and Beef close by my side as I wandered around, admiring the beauty of the place. The pit ignored us, except to look up occasionally when he heard Beef’s barking during our games of ‘fetch’. He amused himself by using his nose to push huge pieces of broken ice along the ground to the edge of the hill, send it over and down, fly recklessly after it, grab it in his mouth, then prance back up the hill to repeat his manoeuvre, rearing his head like a horse. He did it over and over again. He took a spill during one of the chases downhill and rolled, ending up on his back. I laughed loudly as I watched him wriggle frantically before succeeding the scramble to his feet. When upright, he lifted his head to stare at me for a good ten seconds, then turned back to his game. Ouch, I thought. The little Sh*t doesn’t like being laughed at!

The evenings were spent rocking lazily by the fire, the labs at my feet and the pit watching me from the couch. Only on Sunday did I suddenly find the absence of noise disturbing. I was missing my ‘gang’, and decided to call and tell them where I was. The short conversation did the trick. I was smiling as I hung up the phone, but the smile disappeared when I saw that the pit had sneaked down to join the labs on the floor. He was lying right in front of the rocking chair. I would have to step over him if I wanted to sit there again. I thought about it for a moment. Nope. I wasn’t going to push my luck. I told myself an early night was what I needed before the long drive to work the next day.

In the morning I woke to another smelly, revenge dump on the floor, but I at least didn’t step in it this time. I told Bud he was a bad dog, though not too loudly. He paid no attention. Neither did he make a fuss when I tied him outside while I cleaned up his mess.

Before leaving for work, I shut the three dogs in the house, then checked that the fireplace door was closed tight and that there was lots of water within their reach. It’s not too bad, I mused as I drove into the city. Granted, I had to get up much earlier, and I would be arriving at the house a lot later. On the plus side, recent changes in the office had made my job extremely hectic. Quiet nights in the bush would afford down-time that I wouldn't get at the city apartment I shared with my son and his two buddies. The pit was only a dog, after all. I couldn’t picture us becoming friends, but as for his ignoring me, I saw no problem enduring his attitude for the short time we’d be living together. I’ll just ignore you too, you little Sh*t! Let’s see how you like that!

Did Bud hear me? Some people swear that animals are telepathic. When I arrived back at the house late that evening, I was prone to agree. Bud made sure that ignoring him was NOT an option. It was ‘au contraire’…which in French means ‘the opposite’. As of that night, he would consume my every thought and be the subject of all my conversations. The reign of terror had begun, and it was anything but quiet.


That’s it for today, folks. Have a good one, enjoy the sunshine if you have it wherever you are, and keep wearing those SMILES!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec