Yesterday morning, just like every weekday morning, I awoke to the smell of breakfast cooking and someone gently stoking my hair---no, wait, that was the dream....to the annoying sound of Hubs' alarm. Tucker was so excited as he knows that, once that alarm sounds, someone is going to be getting out of bed (translation: I am going to be getting out of bed).
Normally, after sticking his tongue up my nose, in my ear, and across my closed eyes, Tuck
sits patiently and waits for me to get up continues to lick me all over my face until I get up and get dressed for our morning walk. Once I am dressed, he sits and stares at me with such a hopeful stare until I put my shoes on to open the door.
Yesterday was different. Yesterday, he wanted to go out into the backyard.
I heard the neighbor's dogs barking but that's not unusual. They love to bark at the squirrels sitting up in the tree looking down and taunting the poor things. Assuming they were continuing with their morning ritual, I let Tuck out to join in the fun.
But Tuck didn't leave the deck. And he went all kinds of crazy with his barking. Something was out there!
I did the only thing I could think of and ran into the bedroom to get Hubs up.
"Quick! There's something out on the deck and Tucker is going NUTS barking at it and so are the neighbor dogs!"
"Great. What is it?"
"I don't know what it is! I'm NOT going out there!"
"Where's all your feminist talk now?"
"Getting wild animals out of the yard is on YOUR list of things to deal with, you HAVE to go! There's NO TIME for this, get UP!"
Hubs
rushed out of bed and dashed out the back door onto the deck nearly fell out of bed and stumbled out the back door almost falling onto the deck.
I was panic sicken as Tucker became an even braver ten pounder once Hubs was out there with him. Hubs grabbed my little brave pup and handed him in to me whereupon I
slammed the door shut calmly closed the door to only a crack so the wild animal would not be able to come into the house.
And then I hear--- "It's a possum." Followed by, "Where's the shovel?"
"You're NOT going to kill it, are you?"
"What do you want me to do?"
"Catch it and let it go somewhere else but DON'T kill it!"
"That's what Tucker wanted to do."
"Tucker is a dog."
Hubs came in, got dressed and went back out to deal with the possum.
Tuck and I
stood loyally by his side watched from the safety of the study window for the next half hour as Hubs methodically blocked all exits from the AC unit (the
killer possum had escaped the deck and run under the unit) leaving only two openings--one from which he could gently poke the wild animal and the other rigged for the thing to run into a five gallon bucket.
I'm relieved and happy to report that the possum has been relocated to a woodsy area and no longer wrecking havoc on our happy little home.
And Hubs was only 20 minutes late for work.
Because I didn't want him to kill the possum-- and he honored my wishes. Which is just like him.
He truly is my hero.
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| Even when he wears his cap backwards. |
I'm linking up with FOLLOW FRIDAY 40 AND OVER with JAVA over at NEVER GROWING OLD
AND FRIDAY FRIEND CONNECT with Jan over at Midlife Parenting
