ode to a great bordeaux, 1991

April 13, 2016 at 4:32 pm Leave a comment

This morning, as I was “compacting” a package with my foot, I found myself grinning and thinking about our first little Yorkie that Terry Malone and I “rescued” within five months of  our wedding date.  His name was Boredeaux.  We got him  from the Bordeaux, TN Sanitary Landfill  & Dog Pound.  We camped out all night for that little rascal. Found him on a Thursday afternoon at the pound, and his parole date wasn’t until Saturday morning.  So, I told Terry, “We are gonna be sitting outside the locked main gate at 2am”.  Terry thought I was nuts. (I won’t argue that point; t’would be futile.) But, I will say we were there at 2am. And,  at 2:05am that evening, the next car pulled up.  An elderly man who’d “driven allllll the way from Kentucky” had arrived five minutes too late for the same dog.  My thoughts? “Cry me a river, PawPaw.  That Yorkie is MINE.”

A while later, another car pulled up behind us.  A woman waddled up to my window, which I rolled down an eighth of an inch.

“I don’t SUPPOSE you’d HAPPEN to be here for the Yorkie, would you?”

“Yes ma’am.  Been here since 2am,” I replied.

“Uhhhhhh huh!” she said, and waddled away.

Minutes later I saw that gal and her husband go flying across the field of grass between the hospital and the dog pound.

Okay. You can see this is gonna get ugly, right? Lemme sum it up. 6am, the official legal front gate opened to the public.  We drove back there and waited at the gate to the dog pound beside the hooligans in the pick up truck.  The poor fella who had to open the dog pound that morning pulled up. Got out. Opened the lock on the gate. And we raced  to that dog pound door.  Terry said, you better jump out if you want your dog.  So, I did. It’s a wonder I didn’t break my ankle as I foot raced that bitch to the front porch. (I won.)

The dog pound employee on duty got out of his car, seeing right away that there was gonna be trouble. He said, “Ladies, what seems to be the trouble?”

I responded, “Trouble? No trouble. My husband and I arrived at 2am and waited outside the legal gate of this establishment. We are here for the Yorkie pup.  I told the security guard my name. He wrote it down. I told him we were here specifically for the Yorkie pup at the pound. He wrote that down, too.   Now, these folks came up hours later, she asked me if I was here for that Yorkie.  And when I said yes, they decided to drive off through the field, taking an illegal short cut to this second gate. If you’d like to know who was here first, simply consult the guard.  He has my name and what time I arrived.”

The dog pound employee said to the other woman, “Ma’am, is that true?”

And she had the gall to say, “Well, I don’t know about that!”

So, I refreshed her memory with a calm voice and a polite smile, “Well, of course you do know about that. Furthermore you weren’t even SECOND in line. You were third!”

Did I mention this was really a bad redneck saga? Yes. My worst to this date.

So, the dog pound employee says, “Well, I tell ya what, neither of you can have that dog.”

And I smiled, and said, “Are you the MANAGER?”

He said, “No ma’am, he’s off today.”  Heh. I guess he thought I was gonna be satisfied with that?

I  said, “Sir, get your manager on the horn. I’ve been here all night. I followed the rules; she trespassed on private property. And, I am NOT leaving without my dog.”

So, he called the man in charge. The manager sided with the one of us who was outside the legal gate first. And, he chastised the other woman for trespassing. Ha! Whaddaya know! Sometimes justice is served.  Good grief!

Okay, now you have the back story. But, now, back to why I was grinning this morning:

Bordeaux LOVED it when we crushed any kind of packaging before putting it in the trash.  He would get soooo excited!  So revved up! He’d growl and carry on, pulling and tugging at whatever we were stomping flat to make room in the garbage bag.  It was totally “PACK MENTALITY” for him.  Clearly, as far as Bordeaux was concerned, flattening an empty gallon milk jug was, in his canine mind, akin to us out killing livestock together like a pack of wild dogs!

#adogslife #allterriersareBADasses

 

 

 

 

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Entry filed under: critters, the daily grind.

dear people who have been hurt in the church: better than the prize in the crackerjacks

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