Foxy Stone remains high on my list of good dogs and I just have to brag on him. I spent a night during the holidays at Rob & Kelly’s by myself the other night.
Before bedtime, I crept out with Foxy into the big dark backyard full of trees and unseen boogeymen and barely let him have time to get his business done because I saw something white running around the yard in the distance…Rob said it was probably a possum. I am pretty sure what I saw was the Bigfoot seen in the Pacific Northwest and it had migrated to the seemingly safe for children woodsy suburb located just north of Houston where my son lives.
We made it back into the house and I bolted the door. I worried about him getting up in the night needing to attend to more business, so I put a puppy pad by the back door.
Once in bed, I thought how clever I was to do that…then, I remembered that he is well up in years and wouldn’t relish the idea of having to go all the way downstairs to use the pads. Drat! But, just then I heard a loud noise. I texted Rob. He said it was probably the ice maker, but I think it was six men who had broken into the house wearing scary rubber masks.
I was really tired and had left my weaponry back home by my bed. So, I reasoned that if those mask-wearing-maniacs wanted this tired old woman that bad, they were probably a heck of a lot older than I am, and I could beat them off with my brand new amazing Chi Flat Iron with Ionic Tourmaline Hair Straightener even if it wasn’t hot (because it gets REALLY hot and makes my hair spikey like I like it). With that sure plan of action in mind and my flat iron within reach, I fell asleep.
In the night, I half awoke to Foxy jumping up in bed. Uh-oh! I hoped he was just up to get a drink of water…I should go check! But, remembering the ancient masked men bumping around downstairs, I declined to get up and investigate and went back to sleep.
The next morning, I eased quietly around the second floor so as not to attract the attention of the would-be assailants (who were obviously too old to climb the stairs) while looking carefully for a Foxy puddle to sanitize. Finding none there, I, emboldened by morning light, ventured down the stairs to investigate with old man Foxy at my heels.
We made it to the back door without attack and I was pleased and amazed with my old boy. He had indeed gotten up in the night and made his way down a lengthy set of stairs to find the extra large wonderful puppy pads that I use exclusively and he had used them before climbing back up the stairs and returning to the bedroom! In addition, while he was down there, he ran those bad men out of the house because there was not a one of them in sight.