Jasper
Sent to me by a Ranger Brother..Funny Shit
Jasper and the Unbaked Yeast Rolls
Those of you who have/had animals will probably
appreciate this the most. It is a story that is hilarious in
itself and the person that wrote it is a good writer and
made the story even better. Enjoy...
We have a fox terrier by the name of Jasper. He
came to us in the summer of 2001 from the fox terrier rescue
program. For those of you, who are unfamiliar with this type
of adoption, imagine taking in a 10 year old child about
whom you know nothing and committing to doing your best to
be a good parent.
Like a child, the dog came with his own
idiosyncrasies. He will only sleep on the bed, on top of the
covers, nuzzled as close to my face as he can get without
actually performing a French kiss on me.
Lest you think this is a bad case of 'no
discipline,' I should tell you that Perry and I tried
every means to break him of this habit including locking him
in a separate bedroom for several nights. The new door cost
over $200. But I digress.
Five weeks ago we began remodeling our house.
Although the cost of the project is downright obnoxious, it
was 20 years overdue AND it got me out of cooking
Thanksgiving for family, extended family, and a lot of
friends that I like more than family most of the time.
I was assigned the task of preparing 124 of my
famous yeast dinner rolls for the two Thanksgiving feasts we
did attend.
I am still cursing the electrician for getting
the new oven hooked up so quickly. It was the only appliance
in the whole darn house that worked, thus the assignment.
I made the decision to cook the rolls on Wed
evening to reheat Thurs am. Since the kitchen was freshly
painted, you can imagine the odor. Not wanting the rolls to
smell like Sherwin Williams #586, I put the rolls on baking
sheets and set them in the living room to rise for a few
hours. Perry and I decided to go out to eat, returning in
about an hour. The rolls were ready to go in the oven.
It was 8:30 PM. When I went to the living room
to retrieve the pans, much to my shock one whole pan of 12
rolls was empty. I called out to Jasper and my worst
nightmare became a reality. He literally wobbled over to me.
He looked like a combination of the Pillsbury dough boy and
the Michelin Tire man wrapped up in fur. He groaned when he
walked. I swear even his cheeks were bloated.
I ran to the phone and called our vet. After a
few seconds of uproarious laughter, he told me the dog would
probably be okay; however, I needed to give him Pepto Bismol
every 2 hours for the rest of the night.
God only knows why I thought a dog would like
Pepto Bismol any more than my kids did when they were sick.
Suffice it to say that by the time we went to bed the dog
was black, white and pink. He was so bloated we had to lift
him onto the bed for the night.
We arose at 7:30 and as we always do first
thing, put the dog out to relieve himself. Well, the dog was
as drunk as a sailor on his first leave. He was running into
walls, falling flat on his butt and most of the time when he
was walking, his front half was going one direction and the
other half was either dragging the grass or headed 90
degrees in another direction.
He couldn't lift his leg to pee, so he
would just walk and pee at the same time. When he ran down
the small incline in our back yard he couldn't stop
himself and nearly ended up running into the fence.
His pupils were dilated and he was as dizzy as
a loon. I endured another few seconds of laughter from the
vet (second call within 12 hours) before he explained that
the yeast had fermented in his belly and that he was indeed
drunk.
He assured me that, not unlike most binges we
humans go through, it would wear off after about 4 or 5
hours and to keep giving him Pepto Bismol.
Afraid to leave him by himself in the house,
Perry and I loaded him up and took him with us to my
sister's house for the first Thanksgiving meal of the
day.
My sister lives outside of Muskogee on a ranch,
(10 to 15 minute drive). Rolls firmly secured in the trunk
(124 less 12) and drunk dog leaning from the back seat onto
the console of the car between Perry and I, we took off.
Now I know you probably don't believe that
dogs burp, but believe me when I say that after eating a
tray of risen unbaked yeast rolls, DOGS WILL BURP. These
burps were pure Old Charter. They would have matched or beat
any smell in a drunk tank at the police station. But
that's not the worst of it.
Now he was beginning to fart and they smelled
like baked rolls. God strike me dead if I am not telling the
truth! We endured this for the entire trip to Karen's,
thankful she didn't live any further away than she did.
Once Jasper was firmly placed in my
sister's garage with the door locked, we finally sat
down to enjoy our first Thanksgiving meal of the day. The
dog was the topic of conversation all morning long and
everyone made trips to the garage to witness my drunken dog,
each returning with a tale of Jasper's latest endeavor
to walk without running into something. Of course, as the
old adage goes, 'what goes in must come out' and
Jasper was no exception.
Granted if it had been me that had eaten 12
risen, unbaked yeast rolls, you might as well have put a
concrete block up my behind, but alas a dog's digestive
system is quite different from yours or mine. I discovered
this was a mixed blessing when we prepared to leave
Karen's house. Having discovered his 'packages'
on the garage floor, we loaded him up in the car so we could
hose down the floor.
This was another naive decision on our part.
The blast of water from the hose hit the poop on the floor
and the poop on the floor withstood the blast from the hose.
It was like Portland cement beginning to set up and cure.
We finally tried to remove it with a shovel. I
(obviously no one else was going to offer their services)
had to get on my hands and knees with a coarse brush to get
the remnants off of the floor. And as if this wasn't
degrading enough, the darn dog in his drunken state had
walked through the poop and left paw prints all over the
garage floor that had to be brushed too.
Well, by this time the dog was sobering up
nicely so we took him home and dropped him off before we
left for our second Thanksgiving dinner at Perry's
sister's house.
I am happy to report that as of today (Monday)
the dog is back to normal both in size and temperament. He
has had a bath and is no longer tricolor. None the worse for
wear I presume. I am also happy to report that just this
evening I found 2 risen unbaked yeast rolls hidden inside my
closet door.
It appears he must have come to his senses
after eating 10 of them but decided hiding 2 of them for
later would not be a bad idea. Now, I'm doing research
on the computer as to: 'How to clean unbaked dough from
the carpet.'
And how was your day?
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