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Tuesday, 14 September 2010

Loss of Maidenhood Part 1

By Johna Ferguson

Perky was a lovely Australian sheep dog that belonged to my middle son Quinn who was then 10. Perky was a year old and had just come into heat. I had warned my three sons about keeping her in the house all the time. No one was to even take her on a leash for a walk.

I had to work that next day. My youngest, who was seven, was to come straight home from school and wait in the yard the 10 minutes or so until his older brother came home to unlock the door. Quinn was told to not open the door too quickly and let Perky slip out. I took off and thought no more about it, thinking I’d covered my bases.

Rob, the youngest, and his friend David came home and heard lots of barking coming from our kitchen. When they got to the side door, they found that the top of that Dutch door was open wide and the kitchen/family room was filled with all sorts of yapping dogs.

Not only that, Rob said when I arrived in half-an-hour, “Mother, there was piss and grunt everywhere. David shooed all the dogs out while I held smelly Perky and then shut the upper door tight. He and I tried to clean up the mess so you wouldn’t be too upset, but there was so much.”

I asked, “Where’s Quinn, he should be home,” but Rob answered, “I don’t know.”

Just then Quinn appeared, whistling a happy tune. “Hey what’s up, he casually asked?”

When Rob told him what he found, Quinn hung his head. He had left the upper part of the Dutch door open when he came home for lunch so Perky could get some fresh air. He never thought about dogs being able to jump over the lower part.

I realized he made an honest mistake, but that didn’t help. I sent them all out to David’s house and told them to wash themselves thoroughly, and for David to tell his mom to give Rob some clean clothes to wear.

I tackled the left over mess. Luckily, the door to the living room was still shut tight. I scrubbed the walls and floor with buckets of water and ammonia to try to take away the smell, but to me it still permeated everywhere. I just couldn’t eat in that kitchen for a few days until my mind was clear of it all, but the family didn’t mind; they said it only smelled of ammonia now.

Poor Perky was not herself for a few days. She lay exhausted, just like the fallen lady she now was. Only time would tell which dog would be the puppies’ father. From Rob and David’s description of the event, there was a choice between five different dogs. But that’s part 2 of the story.

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