A Real Bite in The Pants

After Dave read my last entry, he reminded me that Coalers actually did one bad thing that I didn't mention. One very, very bad thing. First off though, his name was actually Coal. I just tend to add an "ers" to the end of the names of people and dogs I like. Please note that Grady is not referred to as "Graders". At least not yet. Grady in fact JUMPED IN THE HOT TUB LAST NIGHT. A HOT TUB FILLED WITH 10-YEAR OLD BOYS WHO LIKE TO SCREAM LIKE LITTLE GIRLS. But this tale is not about him. This is about the Honorable Mayor Coalman A. Young. A concession to Dave. I refused to spell it correctly on the AKC papers as a concession to not not naming my dog after a complete boob. If you ever want to make yourself laugh, find yourself a copy of quotes from the good mayor. Come to think of it, is it too late to change Grady's name? Probably. Snap. But anyway, back to Coalers the Great. We were Up North as was our habit in the summer. And as has been established, Coal was an epically good dog. He'd hop on the wicker porch furniture on occasion, which drove my mom to drink but since we let him on the couches and beds at home, it wasn't really his fault. And he did develop the aforementioned crazy stink that no amount of outdoor showers or trips to the groomers could remove or mask. But other than that, he was da bomb. Even my dad, who is not really an animal guy would admit that he was good. Until "The Power Washer Incident". My dad had dragged the power washer out to clean the docks. I'm sure there were many things he would have rather done on a beautiful summer day but I'm also sure my mom was behind this somehow. Rose likes to coerce Bill into doing things and then when you try to tell her to give the poor guy a break she'll say, "But Daddy LOVES to power wash the docks!" or "Daddy LOVES to pick people up from the airport at midnight!" or "Daddy LOVES to be the designated driver". The latest one was more general: "Daddy LOVES to help". Newsflash: Daddy does not love any of these things. He does love not being bitched at though. Thus the power washing on the day in question. Dad, having rolled the power-washer out from the garage and onto the dock bends over to start her up. Coal is standing nearby. As he lets it rip, I think Dave and I both had the same horrible realization: Coal is driven nuts by two-stroke engines. Power washer starts up. Coal immediately goes completely berserk and BITES MY DAD IN THE ASS. Exact quote (that will live in infamy)? "THAT GOD DAMN DOG JUST BIT ME IN THE ASS". Um, of all of the asses in the world you could bite, my dad's is pretty close to the bottom of the list. He's just not the kind of guy you screw with. Or bite. I seriously think his eyes almost popped out of his head. All I could think to say was, "Errrr......did he break the skin? No? Sorry???". I don't believe my dad acknowledged Coal for the rest of that summer. We're big on shunning people in my family. And animals. The one good thing that came of it is that my dad was the first and the last person Coalers ever bit. Probably 'cause we had his teeth removed like the Bumble. Not really. We didn't. Alrighty then! I am taking my bad self and three children to the pool. Will report back with any antics of note. If nobody is doing anything crazy I'll take one for the team and figure something out. It's too early to involve alcohol but nudity really doesn't have a time frame.