Momma was leaving town again and she was bound and determined there be no issues or drama this time for Dr. Becca or Nanny Becky. I don’t think she was as concerned about inconveniencing them as she was about another humiliating Blog post.
She almost made it. She had dog food, bones, and treats on hand. She even managed to leave a key for Becca so she could get in and out of the house to care for me. She was, however, running a tad behind as usual and quite harried as she prepared to catch a ride to the airport. Since I hadn’t gone potty for an eternity, Momma decided she should take me out, even though she really couldn’t spare the time. “Hurry up Lina, let’s go potty!” she commanded. She clipped me to my leash and then, forgetting what she was doing, ran to the kitchen to make coffee for the road. I trailed behind her, wondering what happened to my potty trip.
As Momma attempted to force the lid on the coffee cup, it squished out of her grasp and the steaming hot liquid flew everywhere. The counter, the cabinets, the drawers, the floor and her clothing were all drenched. The hot coffee even burned her skin in places, and for a brief moment, she thought of suing someone over this (the figure $3 million crossed her mind).
But first things first: In pain and nearly hysterical, Momma began hopping around and yelling, “Lina, Lina!” while I watch in horror (with my legs crossed). She became a maniac at this point, trying to rip her clothing off and clean up the mess at the same time. Taking me to the bathroom was the last thing on her mind.
When Momma finished wiping up the coffee and had carefully selected a new traveling ensemble, she finally remembered that I was running around with my leash attached, desperately needing to go potty. Now really out of time, she pulled me out the door shrieking, “Hurry, Lina, go potty quick – Momma’s gotta leave right now!!!” Luckily I was able to perform and off she went.
In her haste, Momma had left the coffee-soaked clothing, including her favorite sweater, in the laundry room. Suddenly it occurred to her that if someone could take her sweater to the cleaners immediately, they might be able to save it. Becca was coming over anyway, and Momma thought she would just call and give her a little heads up. It seems Momma forgot that Becca had a full time job and might not be up at 6:30 on a Saturday morning. Since Becca didn’t answer, she left a message and then called Becky – just in case she was standing at the ready with nothing to do.
When Momma got to the airport and – temporarily – came to her senses, she realized that a stained sweater maybe may not be the national emergency she thought it was, and texted the Bs to apologize and explain. (She was also a little nervous that this might be the last straw for both of them.) By then, however, the Bs had come to the rescue and the precious sweater was already at the cleaners.
The morning’s emergency over, Momma’s worries now turned to the Blog. She texted Becca, warning her that I better not broadcast her latest fiasco and referring to me as “The Little Tattletail.”
With Momma finally out of my fur, things calmed down at home and my week with the Bs progressed nicely. They often reported to Momma on our activities, in case her thoughts ever turned to me. Becca told Momma that she took me along to run errands and even to work (“To what?” Momma queried) one day. Becca also sent a photo of my new Halloween toy:
And my new size-appropriate pink harness:
Don’t tell Momma I said this, but I saw her studying the picture when trying to figure out how to put it on me.
Mercifully there are never any emergencies when the Bs are in charge and we had a fun, relaxing week. All too soon though, Momma’s (and my!) vacation was over and she returned. In case you are wondering, the stain did not come out of the sweater, the replacement cost of which can only hurt the Bottom Lina.
Lina, The Little Tattletail