Sunday, July 29, 2007

The Further Adventures of Superman

Superman and I were out for our evening walkies last night, bopping along down the sidewalks of Deep Inferno, minding our own business and cheerfully humming dorky old Abba tunes in two-part harmony while boyfriend heeled at my left knee with impressive military precision. When all of a sudden, I kid you not, a COP CAR pulled up alongside us and turned on his flashing blue lights!

Now in driver's ed they never taught us the protocol for pulling over while walking. Was I supposed to raise my hands in the air like on tv, or what? Does a 90 pound albino Doberman count as a concealed weapon?

And what the hell could the police want with me, anyhow? Come on, dude, I was thinking, no way am I walking over the speed limit, so what, one of my tail lights is out?

Officer Cop rolled down his window and beckoned me over to the squad car. "That's a nice looking dog you've got there, ma'am," he said. "Is he aggressive?"

Ah ha, I get it, he's profiling me: little old white-haired granny, wearing hot pink Chuck Taylors and thick nerdy glasses, bopping along the sidewalk diligently obeying the leash laws while humming Take A Chance On Me? Yup, odds are clearly pretty damn high she's running an illegal vicious dog fighting ring out back behind her petunia bed.

"Oh, no sir, Mr. Officer," I assured him. "He's a real sweetheart, just a great big lovable goofy ol' puppy." Unless you happen to be a cat. Or move one more inch in my direction, you fool, which I really really wouldn't advise. "I take him to obedience classes down at the PetSmart every week!" I blathered on, straining to radiate innocence from every pore. "He's learning to obey and do tricks and he's always on a leash and he has his rabies tag and I'm carrying a poop bag and see? see? See what a good responsible dog owner I am?"

But the cop had stopped listening and was peering at something in his back seat, which I couldn't see through the black tinted windows. "Whaddaya think, Stella?" he asked. Stella didn't answer. "I'm surprised she isn't trying to kill your dog," the cop said to me. "Stella is usually VERY aggressive."

And then it dawned on me, duh: Stella wasn't some belligerent passed out drunk he was hauling in to the station; this was the official Deep Inferno K-9 Unit! And Officer Cop didn't want to lecture me on the dangers of owning an aggressive breed; he just wanted to talk dog shop with me. And possibly find out whether my four-legged penile extension was meaner and scarier than his.

So great, we chatted dog talk for a bit, the cop car blocking the middle of the street with his light still flashing so all my neighbors could peer through their curtains and speculate as to why the heck that weird old lady who just moved into the little shack on the corner was being arrested for walking the streets at dusk. Meanwhile Superman sat obediently at my side, calmly studying cracks in the sidewalk.

"I just don't get why Stella isn't barking at him," the cop said again. And I guess his curiosity finally got the better of him, because he hit a little button on his dashboard that lowered the rear window.

Well cheezis. Thank the everfucking Universe there was a wire mesh screen. Because Stella (aka Cujoella) took one look at Superman and started hurling her ferocious deranged snapping snarling barking foaming German Shepherd self against it with full force, over and over again, her blazing red eyes fixed on his jugular as flames shot out through her nostrils.

Superman took one look at Stella and peed all over his own feet.

Oh well, I guess this means we probably lost the Biggest Penis in Deep Inferno contest? Rats.

"Hey, nice talking to you!" said Officer Macho with a smug grin as he put his cruiser into gear.

"Right," I said cradling my trembling whimpering 90 pound baby who was desperately trying to crawl up onto my shoulders. "We'll have to get the pups together for a play date real soon."

Poor Soopy. When we got home he did his very best to make up for his embarrassing little lapse in protective duty. He spent twenty whole minutes following a big black carpenter ant back and forth across the back porch, bravely barking his head off at it, staunchly defending Miss Lady and the Beloved Homestead.

My big sweet hero! I don't know what I'd ever do without him.


Blogger Yankee T said...

If I were a doggie, I'd want to live at your house.

9:08 PM  
Blogger Judy Wise said...

I love Superman.

11:01 PM  
Blogger Trasi said...

Soop is so freaking awesome. And Stella (or more specifically, Stella's cop owner) is a nimrod.
Obviously his wanker ain't very big, seeing that he needs to drive his extension around in the back of his car.

11:03 PM  
Blogger ay-em said...

Who TRIES to get their dog all aggressive and in attack mode??? And, what's with the flashing lights, fer chrissake? Idiot.

Go Soop! :)

- am

5:00 AM  
Blogger Jamie said...

I am, once again, in LOVE with your dog. :)

6:05 AM  
Blogger Beth Currie said...

Poor Stella, to have such a sucky owner. Not a lucky pup like your Soop. LOVE his superman collar tag!


6:41 AM  
Blogger Lymphopo said...

Oh I have nothing but the highest respect for Stella, whose owner, by the way is not Officer Macho but the taxpayers of Deep Inferno. He's just her handler, and she's a highly trained working dog. He could have made her stop raging with one silent twitch of hid finger, he just chose not to. But I imagine she's kept him safe on some hair-raisingly dangerous missions into drug sniffing territory. I would love to have an opportunity to watch Stella at work, those K-9 police dogs are amazing.

7:58 AM  
Blogger Bathtub Mary said...

This post made me twitch with displaced dog-related anxiety :) Lately I keep encountering people who think it's OK to let their offleash dogs get up in my dog's face, and if I protest, well, I'm just uptight.

I imagine that doesn't happen with a Doberman very often, right? I would hope?

Love the dog stories!

8:49 AM  
Blogger Vanda said...

Oh please no more pictures of that great dog. My dog wants a tag just like his.(Just kidding about the pics). I think he is such a great dog even if he peed on you,LOL.

What a fool he was, sheese.

I am so glad I found you again. It was so by chance that I was blog surfing and jusy happened to click on your blog link :-).

9:43 AM  
Blogger RP said...

Well, duh: Soop is a doctor, not a cop. Maybe if he carried a stethoscope, passing humans wouldn't want to get all macho around him...

11:22 AM  
Blogger funambulator said...

I agree with Rachel - he needs a stethoscope, and a hat like this one:

11:43 AM  
Blogger KinnicChick said...

Poor Dr. Soop. I bet during his off hours the cop drives around in a really big pick up truck and has other really big toys to make up for what he lacks in other areas, too.

1:37 PM  
Blogger -L said...

There have been all these enthusiastic comments about Soop and doggies, and somehow, I am stuck on just one detail:

You got pulled over while walking your dog and it occurred to you to wonder if the "tail light" was out.


If you do go and get him a stethoscope and scrubs or whatever, make sure you pick up a blinky light for his doberman booty as well.


1:39 PM  
Blogger Ron Sullivan said...

"Dammit, Jim! I'm a doctor, not a penis extension!"

11:17 PM  
Blogger Mrs Pretzel said...

Aaaagh! I WANT your Soopy! Sucha sweetie! Love him. Good to see that you are out and about! You might not have even noticed my little blip on the radar hasn't been around, but I've been thinking about ya!

2:58 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

OH! Poor pumpkin!

Snuggles and pets to your sweet puppy -- and the others, too, while you're at it; why not? Any excuse. :)

12:56 PM  
Blogger Unknown said...

Here's a quote from my all-time favorite dog book, All the Dogs of My Life by Elizabeth von Arnim (who also wrote Elizabeth and her German Garden):
I would like, to begin with, to say that though parents, husbands, children, lovers and friends are all very well, they are not dogs. In my day and turn having been each of the above,-except that instead of husbands I was wives,-I know what I am talking about, and am well acquainted with the ups and downs, the daily ups and downs, the sometimes almost hourly ones in the thin-skinned, which seem inevitably to accompany human loves. Dogs are free from these fluctuations. Once they love, they love steadily, unchangingly, till their last breath. That is how I like to be loved. Therefore I will write of dogs.
The ending is even better. Maybe you could offer it through your Amazon link?

7:51 PM  
Blogger citygrrrl said...

hell, i would have peed on my feet too!

8:27 AM  
Blogger fluttertongue said...

Hello - just thought I'd drop a quick note to let you know how much I'm enjoying your blog. I started reading and I can't quite stop, a bit like eating icecream from the tub.

10:48 AM  
Blogger momo said...

Why, hello, other-momo.

O Superman!

11:48 PM  
Blogger KinnicChick said...

So it's been a few days. I know I know... Just a few days. But the anniversary and all... Hope all is well and the dogs are taking good care of you. Hugs.

6:26 PM  
Blogger Unknown said...

Hi other Momo! Is that your nickname? It's been mine for many years, ever since I met my husband Peter and he became Popo. My children are very embarrassed, of course. Real name is Maureen.

Good old dogs.

6:45 PM  
Blogger momo said...

Momo, my daughter started writing "mama" as momo when she was really little, and it became her special name for me. It also has other associations for me which I wrote about here

10:58 PM  
Blogger Jeanne said...

Lis--this is a great post. I LOVE Superman.

We had a similar--although not so dramatic experience with GB when he was a pup. Younger Son and I were walking the little darling in the park, on a leash, with a poop bag, when the animal control truck pulled up.

I just about lost it, trying to figure out what we had done, but the lady on board just wanted to pet our lovable puppy. (Argh. Scared me.)

I've just finished blogging about service dogs for cancer patients. Is it OK if I link to this post? I've collected quite a few stories already, but this one, well, it's in a class by itself.

Here are the links:

Cancer Dog

Want a Service Dog of Your Very Own?


9:09 PM  

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