Dizzy Dog Story
September 2, 2023 – Beaver Dam, Wisconsin, USA
Grandpa and Grandma Scoville practically begged to babysit their three-year-old granddaughter, Sara, over the weekend. They were not so thrilled when Sara’s mother told them they also had to watch Max, a dog that looked part Husky, part Shepard, and part Great Dane. Grandpa Scoville said he must also be part bear. He left tufts of hair everywhere he sat and constantly sniffed his surroundings as if searching for a hidden steak.
Sara and Max were dropped off early on Saturday morning. Grandma arranged the front room of her house into a nursery, including toys Sara’s mom once played with. Sara grew especially interested in a wooden block set. She stacked blocks three or four high and then knocked them over.
“Ha, just like her mom,” Grandma said, looking on affectionately.
“And where’s that monster dog?” Grandpa asked.
“Sniffing around somewhere. I hope he stays off the beds.”
“I guess I’ll get some yardwork done. I’m about to dig up that rosebush you wanted gone.”
“What about the knob on the backdoor? It doesn’t latch. Can’t you fix that before the rosebush?”
“I’ve already got my shovel and gloves ready. I’ll take care of the door later.”
Grandpa walked through the kitchen and out the back door, which opened with only a push. He continued to the right side of the house where a rosebush had outgrown its welcome.
Grandma returned her full attention to little Sara and the blocks. She snapped pictures and whispered to herself about how much Sara and her mother looked alike. Grandma showed Sara a doll and a picture book, but the little girl stayed interested in the blocks. She was so focused, her grandma decided she could slip quickly into the kitchen and add some potatoes to a Crockpot.
Grandma was only gone for a few minutes. She expected to return to the front room to find Sara surrounded by scattered blocks. Instead, she found Sara next to a couch. Grandma’s purse was lying on the floor on top of a multi-colored crocheted blanket. Sara held a medicine bottle in one hand.
“Sara! What are you doing in Grandma’s purse?”
Grandma rushed over to discover Sara had successfully removed the top from the bottle, spilling bright green pills over the blanket. The girl clutched two pills in one of her fists.
“Oh! Those are Grandma’s pills for her back! They relax my muscles. Those aren’t for three-year-olds.”
Grandma pulled the bottle and pills away from her granddaughter. Then she got on her hands and knees and plucked the remaining pills from the blanket. Some were hard to find because they were camouflaged by the blanket’s patches of green yard. Grandma’s hands shook nervously as she counted all the pills she returned to the bottle.
“Twenty-one. I started with 30 and take one every night.” She counted on her fingers the number of days she had been using the bottle. “Oh no! Two are missing!” Grandma looked in horror at Sara. “Oh baby, did you eat two of Grandma’s pills?”
Sara replied with something that sounded like, “Grandma’s pills,” but it was no obvious admission of guilt.
“Oh, what would two pills do to someone your size?” Grandma wondered aloud. “Should I call the hospital? A poison control number?”
Grandma stared intensely at Sara, trying to spot any signs her muscles were relaxing. Would she drop to the floor like she was unconscious? Grandma’s lips quivered from fear and regret. Surely this would be the last time she would get to babysit her granddaughter.
While Grandma froze with indecision, she heard Grandpa shout from outside the house. She thought about calling for his help, but remained silent, her eyes locked on Sara and her hands clutching the pill bottle. Another minute crawled by. She heard more noise outside. Then Max came stumbling into the room. She had forgotten she had a dog in the house. Max acted unsteady and exhausted. He collapsed on his back, his hair immediately sticking to the carpet. His eyes stayed open, but his tongue hung from his mouth like a deflated balloon.
“Max! What’s wrong with you?”
A new thought dawned on Grandma. Max had eaten the two missing pills! That was why he looked so woozy. Grandma suddenly grew less horrified. A trip to the veterinarian for the dog was much better than a trip to the hospital for Sara. The dog was big enough that he might even be able to sleep off the pill’s effects without any medical attention. Sara’s mother might not need to know what happened to Max. Grandma could do more babysitting after all. Maybe it was time to tell Grandpa the story.
Grandpa was blissfully unaware of the situation in the front room of his house, but things outside were not exactly peaceful. When Grandma heard him yelling, it was because a group of teenagers drove past the yard in an old jeep. The heap of metal sputtered and groaned, and the driver swerved over the curb and up onto the sidewalk. Passengers laughed and shouted. The rolling menace caught Grandpa’s attention and he yelled for the jeep to stay off the sidewalks. The teenagers thought Grandpa’s angry warning was hilarious and they decided to make another trip around the block.
At the time, Max was taking a break from house sniffing and had found a quiet spot on the bathroom floor for a little nap. He heard the first drive-by of the loud jeep and Grandpa’s yelling but decided to ignore them. When he heard the jeep a second time, his curiosity pulled him to his feet. He trotted to the back door and easily pushed it open. Then he ran around the left side of the house and intercepted the jeep as it was turning a corner.
The teenagers inside were sure they were being chased by a bear. All four of them squealed. The driver avoided any sidewalk driving and pushed the jeep to maximum acceleration.
By the time Grandpa put down his shovel to investigate the noise, the jeep was long gone. Left behind was an overturned mailbox. The wooden stem holding it up from the ground was broken in two and the side of the box itself was caved in. It was obvious to Grandpa that the jeep joyriders attacked his mailbox in a hit and run operation. His rage grew as he inspected the damage. He stomped his way to his back door to find it wide open. He left his work boots outside and walked into the kitchen to call the Sheriff’s office.
“I’d like to report some kids terrorizing neighborhoods and destroying personal property. Yeah, I think I can identify them. At least one of them lives down the street.”
The voice at the Sheriff’s office told Grandpa a deputy would be out to investigate in thirty minutes.
Grandpa hung up the phone and strolled into the front room to share his story with Grandma. He found Max laid out on the carpet, Grandma’s purse and colorful blanket on the floor, and Grandma nervously holding her pill bottle.
“What’s going on in here?”
“Sara got into my purse. Somehow she opened up my pills. Now there are nine gone and I only took seven. I think Max ate the other two. That’s why he’s conked out.”
Grandpa looked between his wife, granddaughter, and the giant dog. He temporarily forgot about the mailbox. “Let me see the pill bottle.” After taking it from Grandma’s hands he said, “You sure there are twenty-one in here?”
“I’ve counted them a hundred times.”
“Now didn’t you take a couple extra at the beginning of the week? When your back was acting up.”
Grandma looked surprised. “You’re right. How could I have forgotten about that? The shock of finding Sara with the pills must have frazzled my mind.”
“So there aren’t two missing?”
“No. Oh, what a relief!”
“Then what’s wrong with the dog?”
At that moment, the front doorbell rang. Grandpa answered it to find his across-the-street neighbor standing on the porch.
“Is the dog alright?” the neighbor asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I saw the whole thing. That jeep came around the corner and that big dog was right on top of them. He looked like a wild animal and didn’t even see the mailbox when he ran smack-dab into it.”
“The dog hit the mailbox? Not the jeep?”
“Definitely the dog.”
Grandpa thanked his neighbor and said he thought the dog would be fine. “He only got his bell rung a little.”
“I gotta make a call,” Grandpa said to his wife.
He walked back into the kitchen and dialed the Sheriff’s office. “Yeah, go ahead and cancel that deputy visit. It wasn’t those kids after all.”
“Looks like you’ve got things under control inside, I think I’ll go finish off that rosebush,” Grandpa announced. “Then I’ve got a mailbox to fix.”
“Before you do either of those, I really think you should work on the door.”
Grandpa looked over at Max, who was showing signs of life. “Maybe you’re right. If we leave that bear on the loose, my fix-it list will be a mile long by sundown. And how about putting your purse somewhere high enough that our guests can’t reach?”
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