Yesterday morning after work Max and I decided it would be a great day for a trip to the dog park. Well, I decided, but he readily agreed.
Usually when I get home I’ll put the groceries away that picked up on the way home. Then if it’s nice enough outside I’ll get out of my jeans and into a pair of shorts. I never let the dog know we’re going to the park until all of that is done, otherwise he goes absolutely crazy for 5 minutes, barking and jumping around like a madman.
Yesterday when I got home, he kind of knew we’d be going for a run. Don’t ask me how, but he just knew. So I indulged him. “Hey buddy, wanna go to the park?” Well, that was it.
I was a little peckish so I had a quick look in the fridge. I spotted some cheddar cheese and thought that a quick chunk of cheese with a few crackers would hold me over until we got back home. I pulled the cheese out of the fridge and went into the drawer for a knife to cut it with. Just as I put my fingers in the drawer the dog came running, jumped up, and slammed the drawer right on my fingers. You might see a video like that on America’s Funniest Videos, but I guarantee you’ll never hear the audio. I thought I broke a finger, and if you heard the expletives coming from my mouth, you’d of thought I broke all of them.
I told Max to knock it off and go sit in the living room until we were ready to go. He knew he did something wrong, so he slowly made his way into the living room to wait for me. Once I decided my finger wasn’t as bad as it felt, I had my cheese and crackers and we made our way to the park.
On the drive over, all was forgiven, but I did learn a valuable lesson that I can’t ever remember my mom ever imparting on me.
Cheese and dog parks don’t mix! Trust me on that one.