Frosty and I road-tripped to go see my mom for a belated Mother's Day visit. My mom's not really keen on dogs, but she would debate that statement. She says dogs are fine, she just doesn't like dog hair, dog slobber, dog breath... you get the picture. She especially doesn’t like dogs getting on furniture, which is totally allowed back at our house.
Anyway, the dog and I went to see mom at the lake. The lake that is surrounded by red mud. Frosty loves to swim and root around in the mud, and I love to watch her. It makes my heart happy. I’m sure if she could, she would throw her head back and belly laugh. Pure joy.
One afternoon, after a fun frolic, the white beauty was completely red. She looked more like a short coat Irish setter than the American bulldog mix that she (probably) is.
After the swim, Frosty found a sunny spot in the grass to soak up the rays. Mom and I needed a few things from the corner store. The dog looked so comfortable in the grass that I didn’t want to disturb her. I’d wash her off when I got home, I reasoned.
SOMEHOW, while we were running our errand, the girl managed to open the sliding glass doors and get into the house.
Of all the places she could have gone, she picked the very worst spot. She got on mom and dad's bed. Of course it has (had!) a white bedspread. Frosty found mom's side of the bed. Soaking wet and caked with red mud, she snuggled right in.
I downplayed the damage in this post title; the scene was far worse than red mud paw prints on a white bedspread. It looked like an animal was killed on that bed. It looked like a blood splattered, stinky, soaked-to-the-mattress-and-probably-ruined mess.
Mom and I stood there speechless. Sweet Frosty just looked up at us like, what?! All we could do was laugh.
Umm, Happy Mother’s Day, Mom?!