Let the pet stories begin!

I decided to begin a new series. I am still unsure as to what to title it. Pet Stories or Things you just can't make up! Perhaps both would be best. 

As I was getting my hair done the other day. I started to tell my hair stylist a story from Thanksgiving years ago. She told me, "Jen, you can't make this stuff up. You need to blog it." 

So at the end of this short series of blogs you can either thank Melissa or blame her! 

Either way, here goes nothing. 

THANKSGIVING DISASTER   

I  was thinking the other day about a very special Thanksgiving several years ago.  

I must have been in high school when this blessed event took place.  

It was the afternoon of Thanksgiving and the meal was beautifully prepared as Mom always did. The fixings were all on the festively decorated table and the turkey was just being uncovered from his aluminum blanket as the family was gathering around the kitchen for a Thanksgiving prayer. 

When all of the sudden I heard it and then I saw it! It was like my mind was capturing it happening in slow motion. With the voices in the background speaking very slowly and drawn out,also in slow motion. I believe the voices were screaming, BEN, NO!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Ben was our families beloved Basset hound.

Charming dog with strands of drool seeping from his jowls almost constantly. 

Ben had decided he wanted to gather with the family near the table and the Turkey. When, as Basset hounds do, he decided it was time to shake his head to relieve himself of his pearly strands of drool. The sound was similar to you grabbing your cheeks and pulling them in and out rapidly. It's a sort of slurping sound . That's what I heard as I watched the drool strands fly in slow motion toward the food table. I wanted to close my eyes because I knew where it was going to land. But I kept watching as it spiraled through the air and landed on the Turkey, the sweet potatoes, the stuffing and smack dab on grandmas rust colored pant suit. 

My initial reaction was to throw up. But I restrained myself and just stood there gagging. I looked across the kitchen and watched my older brother throw his hands in the air as if to say, screw all of this, and walked away!! 

Drool on just about every good thing on our kitchen table as well as Grandma Phillips back. 

Now that I host Thanksgiving and realize all the work that goes into it, it makes me wonder what my poor mom was feeling. All of her hard work literally gone to the dogs.

Of course none of us were laughing on the day this disaster took place but boy do we all get a good giggle out it now. 

More to come.............