The weeds outside my back door have been calling to me...more like they have been nagging at me like some old harpy. The truth of the matter is I don't mind heading outdoors and getting my hands dirty - that is until things have gotten out of control. Then I get so overwhelmed that I'm paralyzed from even beginning. To make matters worse our beautiful patio and sidewalk that Brian laid down two summers ago was completely overtaken by weeds, weeds that should not have been there. I insisted that plastic be laid down before the patio blocks were laid. Fat lot of good THAT did.
But my good cheer would not have a damper put on it by a few wayward weeds. I invited Reggie outdoors with me and put him on his chain so that he could enjoy the fresh air with me. In hind-sight, that may have been a mistake.
I'm merrily pulling weeds, listening to the radio. A man walks down our alley. As per usual, Reggie runs after him barking like a vicious degenerate. (He is on his chain though, so no harm befalls the innocent walker-by.) I apologize for my dog's rude behavior and go about my business.
As I'm pulling weeds I'm looking at our sidewalk thinking it just looks really, well, unkempt somehow. I can't quite put my finger on it. As I poke around a little I discover that the reason is that the grass is starting to grow over onto the sidewalk, the way it is wont to do. (Not that the stupid grass will grow where we plant it, but take over the sidewalk, sure.) I try to pull it like it's a weed but that's getting me nowhere really fast. So I come up with an idea to get out our flat-edged shovel and pummel the thing into the earth thereby creating a straight, clean edge.
I bring out the shovel. The SECOND I put that shovel in my hand and place my foot upon it Reggie goes absolutely ballistic! I don't know what that shovel in my hands looked like. Perhaps he thought the shovel was attacking me. Perhaps he though I was attacking the shovel. Whatever the case may be, he had a pure hatred and aggression towards the situation. First he wrapped me up in chain barking and growling at the shovel. I got off the shovel, gave him a stern word or two, unwrapped myself, and tried again. AGAIN, the second I got on that shovel hostility ensued and my beloved dog BIT MY LEG! He bit my leg and broke the skin. Alright, I didn't have blood streaming down my leg and it was just one puncture mark, not a whole mouth shaped wound. BUT HE BIT ME.
And I was ticked! So I took said shovel and gave Reggie a firm whack across the rump. Nothing crazy - although I must have looked crazy with my shovel and my yelling at him about being bad and all. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a neighbor working in her yard and thought I should probably pull it together. So there I am, yelling, wielding a shovel, and at that very moment a sheriff pulls up. The first thought that ran through my head was, "How in the world did he get here so fast? It just happened. When the neighbor called he must have been right here."
So he pulls up and says the obligatory, "hello ma'am" and all. I put down the shovel. Do I even need to say that I am total mess also? I was sweaty, dirty with soil from head to toe, and I probably had a crazy look in my eyes. Then he asks, "Did you see a man with a black shirt and jeans walk by here?" Shew! A narrow miss from winding up in the klink for animal cruelty.
I replied that I had, about 30 minutes previous. Then the sheriff wants to know if he appeared drunk. I said I didn't know, my dog had been barking and that was all I really paid attention to. He said he had a report of a drunk walking that way from another neighbor.
Really? Poor guy. If he was drunk he was keeping to himself pretty nicely, not causing any trouble. It was a beautiful Friday afternoon. So he hit the sauce a little early. Who cares? Anyway. There ended my run in with the law. Reggie and I gave each other the cold shoulder for about an hour.
The stupid shovel didn't even work. I edged the entire sidewalk with an old kitchen carving knife. If there is anything that is not fun AT ALL, that is it. This would be a superior punishment for children because it is THAT AWFUL...although you may not want to give misbehaving children a carving knife. Proceed with caution. But I have to say I am quite proud of the results. And though I'd like to say I will never do it again, spring has a way of making me forget how awful certain things are.
I will, however, not be using the flat-edged shovel near or around Reggie in the near future.
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