Sometimes the craziest things happen to me…
To begin with, my male Dachshund, Rambo, has a crush on me. I know what you’re thinking. Oh, boy, Charlotte has gone right over the edge. Maybe so, but that’s not the point.
The first time I noticed a problem was years ago. Every time I left the house he would go bonkers. He would turn over all the trash cans, steal my favorite soap from the bathtub and hide it, pull all my magazines off the coffee table and chew them up. Nothing was sacred. He became Hell Hound.
Now, you’re going to find this part hard to believe, but I swear it’s the truth.
One night I arrived home and found my bedroom in shambles. My comforter, sheets, and bedskirt were ripped to shreads! I immediately thought some crazed maniac had done it, and I raced out of my house. Next door, I saw a man standing in the shadows unloading the back of his SUV, and I assumed it was my new neighbor. So I asked him if he had seen anyone enter my house while I was gone, and I explained the situation, even though he was still standing in the shadows, and I couldn’t get a good look at him. He became very concerned, told me to hold on while he went for his gun. Gun?
In the meantime, I called my girlfriend and told her I thought somebody had broken into my house, and she said, “I’m on my way!”
This is where it gets really strange. My new neighbor raced inside my back door, gun in hand, wearing only his boxer shorts. I swear this is true. He apologized, told me he’d needed something out of the back of his SUV and decided to sneak out real quick to get it. However, he was more concerned that the possible bad guy might still be in my house than he was being in his underwear. So he made me stay downstairs while he checked my condo out.
Did I mention this guy was drop dead gorgeous!
Once he came downstairs and assured me all was well, we introduced ourselves. And I started thinking, I’ll bet Rambo went into a hissy fit because I was gone so long, and HE destroyed my bedroom.
In the meantime, I’m standing in the den of my condo with a half-naked hunk holding a gun. And I’m beginning to think Rambo did me a favor. I suddenly remembered my girlfriend was on her way over. I knew if she walked in and saw a strange man in his underwear holding a gun she would freak out so I asked my neighbor, Sean, if he would please put the gun away, even as I wondered WHERE he could actually put it. Well, he tucked it in the front of his boxers with the barrel pointing you-know-where. About that time, my girlfriend, Susie, squealed into the parking lot. She threw open the back door, and there stood Sean and me.
Most people would probably have gone into sheer panic, but not Susie. She looked from Sean to me — well, mostly at Sean — and she just shook her head and said, “I know there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation.”
To make a long story short, I had to have Rambo neutered immediately because the vet said that Rambo thought of me as his girlfriend. Which was pretty embarrassing to me because I allowed Rambo in the bathroom when I showered. I mean, who would have thunk it, right? Rambo was also put on medication for separation anxiety, which was kind of sad because once he stopped destroying my place I had no reason to invite Sean to my bedroom. Not without appearing to be the worst kind of slut.
Here’s the thing: Stuff like this happens to me all the time. I could tell you tales, and I probably will because I have a big mouth, but here is my question: Does anyone out there have weird stuff like this happen to them on a regular basis?
Again, I ask you. Is it me?