Friday, January 11, 2013

Dustbunny Dudley

     We are pretty sad in the neighborhood this week. We lost a long time buddy to everyone around here. Dudley was 11. Pretty good to reach that age for a Golden Retriever, but when you have a terrific owner that takes really good care of you, you can reach that age.
     Dudley was just the best. He loved everyone, he loved the daycare kids for years, loved hiking, loved life. He was a great dog. I'm missing him and just wanted to share one of the funnier stories about him. It still falls under the category of an adventure. Just didn't have to leave home for this one.
    Ron and I were dog sitting one time years ago. Ron was recovering from hernia surgery at the time. We were sleeping peacefully early Friday morning, 4:30 a.m. to be exact, when I started being stirred awake by the bed jiggling.  In my fuzzy, not awake state of mind, I figured that Gus, our dog, was leaning against the bed scratching or something so I whispered, "Stop it!"  Not wanting to wake up fully, but the bed kept jiggling.  So I whispered again, a little louder, "What are you doing?" so as not to wake up Ron.   
     Then I heard claw marks on the wood floor kind of doing this spinning, sliding, clawing for dear life noise.  Now I am fully awake realizing that there is a dog under the bed.  So I reach over the side of the bed and snap my fingers and say, "Come out here whoever you are!"  Suddenly, a large Dudley face is stretching for all he's worth his way out from under the frame of the bed.  Only his face. So I say again, "Come on Dudley, what are you doing??"  Now he's clawing madly with his feet well away from each side of his head and spreading wider as he tries to pull himself out, doing his best to mind my command. He was doing the butterfly stroke like in swimming. So I say to myself, the - what 80 pound? - dog is stuck under the bed!  Thinking I better get off the bed because my weight must be hindering his process, so I try to pull on him, no that won't work.  He's wedged!  So I try to swing his leg under to get him on his side, much like a breach baby trying to be born, that's not working either.  Hmmmmm....Dudley now is just sort of looking up at me with those big, sad, Golden Retriever eyes while I call him a dummy.  Now Ron is awake and rolls over and says, "What's going on?"  I say, "Dudley is stuck under the bed!"  Ron -in his helpful way -starts cracking up!!  Meanwhile, I'm on my bad knees trying to pull a huge dog out from under a king size bed, then I figure I have to lift the bed to get him out, so I lift my side, and through a straining voice say, "Come on Dudley, come on!"  Ron is still laughing holding his belly.  Dudley is dragging, sliding, clawing, pulling his way out between the bed and my dresser while I'm holding the side of the bed up in the air. There is a serious lack of space for this long, big body. Ron is now laughing totally out of control ON THE BED.  Was I laughing, no, not so much. Remember, it's 4:30 in the morning.  Finally, Dudley is free!  He had a plastic newspaper dog toy in his mouth from under the bed (his mission accomplished) so then he starts making his Chewy Chewbacka noise with this toy in his mouth, happy as a clam.  Finally I get to crawl back under the covers, Ron is still laughing out of control and holding his gut.  He says, "I'm gonna blow another hernia cuz I can't quit laughing!"  I say, "Yea, explain this to the emergency room surgeon." It took us another hour I bet to stop the giggling.  Ron kept picturing in his mind what Dudley must have looked like under the bed then he'd crack up again just as I was nodding off.  We finally settled down realizing there would be no more dustbunnies under the bed for a very long time. Dudley took care of them all.
    We slept in that morning! 

We will miss you Dudders.

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