The Saga of Creepy Whistling Dude Part II – Gumball Rally

*Every once in a while you read a post that breaks your heart. When I read this one at Auds at Barking Mad I was shattered. And also? A fan for life. When I got invited to her dinner party shortly afterwards it sealed the deal. Auds might indeed be barking mad , but she writes about it so well that I just want to come along for the ride. You will too, promise.*

It’s been a busy week here at Casa Barking Mad; Meg is getting ready to head off to college on Saturday (don’t even get me started on that, or the tears will flow! I am not old enough to have a daughter in COLLEGE!), my battle with depression rages on, the hubby was away on a business trip, and I’m still trying to follow up and read all the wonderful dinner party contributions. Then it hit me, I have a guest post I need to send off to Kelly over at Don Mills Diva!

When Kelly first asked me to guest for her I was all; “Woahhhhh, are you SERIOUS? Me? You do still want to have a readership when you get back don’t you?”

However, she was serious, and I was flattered. Completely. And. Totally. Flattered. It’s not everyday someone as awesome as Kelly comes knocking at your Interwebs asking you to pinch hit for her. That was a couple of weeks ago and here I sit, at the literal last minute, trying to pull something amazing out of thin air, so that I don’t send all her many readers fleeing to the furthest corners of the universe and asking themselves, “What was Kelly thinking, asking her to guest post?”

Right when I think I have something that might be worthy of such an honour, disaster strikes! Not once, but twice. No, I didn’t get entangled with any other household appliances…this time it was our dog.

Back in January we decided to add another member to the menagerie here at Casa Barking Mad. As if teenagers, a toddler and two stuck-up cats weren’t already enough, we went and got ourselves a 9-week old Goldendoodle puppy.

See, isn’t he just the cutest little thing you’ve ever seen?

I had always thought I wanted a puppy. But, from the beginning, it was a love/hate relationship with Casey. He annoyed me, he chewed on me, and he peed and pooped everywhere. We tried bell-training him and for a while that worked. He’d run up to the bell and jingle it whenever he needed to go out and take care of business. Then the cats, our two divas we like to call Griffy and Gracie, decided to screw with him. They started playing with the bell which set off something akin to Pavlov’s Response in Casey and he’d pee everywhere. I can’t count how many times I told the hubby we were going to find him a new home. Then he’d do something adorable and I’d cuddle him and couldn’t imagine being without him.

As the months flew by, he grew into a calmer pup, and oh my, did he get seriously adorable as well as HUGE!

Adorableness defined!

He was a lovable walking furball and I finally fell in love with him. Don’t get me wrong, at 10 months old, he’s still got plenty of “puppy” in him, but having mastered; “sit”, “lay down”, “off” and “gimme five”, it’s much more bearable. He’s eager to please and a breeze to train. Oh and best of all, totally house-broken. It’s been months since he’s had an accident.

Casey is a very sociable dog and he loves to romp through our nearly one acre back garden. Directly behind us lives Mr. Creepy Whistling Dude. His evil spawn must have convinced him, after me telling them time and time again that, “No you can not have my dog, yes I know he’s cute as hell and fun to play with, but he is MINE!” that he needed to get them a dog of their own.

Enter Josie. I think she must be a beagle puppy. Josie is, to put it politely, a pain in the ass. She’s little and digs her way under the fence and CWD’s offspring spend hours yelling over the back fence to try and get Josie back in her own yard. Sometimes they start yelling at precisely the same time CWD begins his morning repertoire of whistling tunes to popular horror movies, 5:30AM, or thereabouts. By the way, I abhor whistling. It’s worse than nails on a chalkboard and right up there with sitting next to someone who chews with their mouth open.

Here’s the hubby, trying to escort Josie back into her own yard:




Well, sometimes Josie stays in her own garden or gets taken inside, and sometimes she ends up right back in our yard looking for her buddy Casey. On several occasions I’ve noticed the demonic seed of CWD pelting Josie with something small in order to get her attention and to entice her to go back into her own domain. I assumed they might be small rocks. No wonder she wouldn’t race back into their arms. I’d probably bite someone if they threw rocks at me! Yesterday I realized with shock and horror what exactly they were pelting at the beagle puppy.

I was brushing Casey and noticed he had something sticky between his front paws. Then I noticed huge wads of this stickiness matted into his fur in about 14 different places. Huge, chewed wads of bubble gum were stuck and deeply imbedded in Casey’s thick coat. In some places it was next to his skin. All four paws were covered in gum and it was way down between his toes.

Those little mother-effers! I seriously wanted to rub ancient chewed gum into their hair and then glue their toes together. I was livid. Casey was obviously troubled by all the gum and I didn’t have a clue how to get that much gum out of thick curly and shaggy dog hair.

In tears, I phoned the local dog groomer who offers pick up and drop off service and told them what happened. When the owner of the grooming salon came to get Casey she told me they might have to take most of his coat off in order to get all of the gum and that it may take several hours. I told her that was fine and I’d call later in the day to check on him.

About three hours later I phoned the groomer and was told they’d finally gotten his coat off and that yes, they did have to remove it all and were about to shampoo him and finish grooming. I asked her if I was going to be shocked when I saw him again and she said that I would, but that he was still adorable and the coat would grow back in no time.

I remember feeling the same exact way, back in March when we took the cats for their lion cuts; a bit anxious, slightly apprehensive and something close to frightened that I wouldn’t know how to react when I saw them afterwards. My cats, whilst shockingly different looking didn’t elicit quite the same response as when I first saw Casey after he was brought home. I wasn’t even sure it was my dog.

Casey, afterwards:

I can say with absolute certainty that I didn’t get a greyhound puppy back in January and at this moment in time, that’s exactly what Casey resembles. My heart is a little broken for my poor naked puppy, but thank goodness his coat will grow back relatively quickly, and he’ll once again be my huge shaggy friend. For the time being, he feels like something akin to chenille…warm, breathing chenille, wrapped around my ankles at the moment, snoozing away and totally oblivious to everything except my occasional rubs on his belly and crinkling of his downy soft ears.

I love this dog, naked or not.

Oh and CWD? He won’t be whistling Dixie any time soon!