Chapter 4: Things Get Nuttier

The next morning I got back to work on a job I’d been struggling with for two days.  It was from Wee Weeders, a local lawn care company run by Candice and Meg  Ryan.  The two sisters were Little People who kept their tongues planted firmly in cheek while building the top lawn care business in the county.  In fact, their slogan, “Let your big weeds be our little problem!” was on signs gracing many a well-manicured lawn in my own neighborhood.  Mr. Gato’s German Shepherd Benito never had to lift his leg on a dandelion thanks to Wee Weeders.

 Speaking of Benito, his barking was the only reason I was awake and working at 6:00 AM. My two dogs, Harper and Poppi, being Basenjis, never bark during the night. And let’s face it, six o’clock IS “during the night.” The ladies at Wee Weeders wanted a fresh design for the new signs they would debut this summer.

Before I could begin working, Harper entered my office with a gracefulness I could only envy not emulate. She reached her front legs and neck forward, dipped her back and stretched her sleek brindle body all the way to the end of her curly tail. Poppi, on the other hand, fairly bounced into the room. He swatted Harper’s face with his front paw as he passed, immediately assuming play bow position. Harper and I have one important thing in common—neither of us are morning people! She growled, and Poppi’s wrinkled face looked quizzically at her as he took two quick jumps backward and dove into play position again, barooing at his best friend. The basenji baroo never ceases to enchant me, but Harper seemed immune this morning. She growled again.

In an effort to keep peace, I called, “Walk time!”  and within minutes we were at the park. Ringed by sidewalks, it is the perfect dog walking spot. We just started our second lap around when I heard a crashing sound in the tree above us. Before I could look up a juvenile squirrel with half of its tail missing FELL out of the tree, landed on my head, slid inside my loose shirt and clawed its way down my back and left leg before making a terrified escape onto the ground.

My fearless Harper--who was on my left tried--to climb up my legs to catch the squirrel as it scampered down. Brave Poppi--who was on the right-- did his best to defend "his girls" by circling and lunging at the squirrel. All of his efforts might have been more effective if he hadn't been on my right while the squirrel was doing its death spiral done my left leg.

In the amount of time it took me to scream like a girl, I had two dogs' leashes tightly wrapped around my body. Feeling like my poor father must have the time I convinced him we had to do the sack race at his Memorial Day company picnic, I swayed side-to-side and nearly toppled over.  I was practically hyperventilating from the shock of the squirrel’s claws on my back and the dogs flailing around my legs when . . .

“Oh, my goodness, I’m going down!” I thought as flashing lights danced before my eyes. Unfortunately, those lights weren’t the ones that usually herald unconsciousness.  They were those that herald the arrival of something worse—Officer Krepsky.  Jason’s brisk, “Ma’am, you know you aren’t allowed to walk dogs in the park, don’t you?” snapped me out of it.

“Walk?” I shrieked! “Walk? Can’t you see I’m barely standing?” He took Poppi’s leash out of my hand and untwisted him as he cheerfully asked, “Oh, is this one of your new fitness exercises then?  I thought you would wait for me to come over before you started your calisthenics today.”

“You’re not coming over,” I sputtered thinking it was a shame I didn’t have sharp little claws like the squirrel. “You just said that was just for Belinda’s benefit, right?” The idea of exercising with Jason was appalling! I hated exercising.

Before he could answer another appalling thought hit me.   What if the squirrel had had the mange and maybe now I did, too?  What if those sharp pricks I felt hadn’t been scratches but bites? I could feel the squirrel's marks on my back even as I disentangled myself from Harper.  “Oh my god!” I gasped.  Jason stopped petting Poppi and quickly looked up at me.

 

“Hey, are you hurt? I can call an ambulance.”

“I’m not hurt. I have Rabies!” I whimpered twirling around.  In a frenzy I grabbed my shirt and pulled it up over my shoulders while craning my neck in an attempt to see my back.

“Look! Am I bit? Did that stupid squirrel bite me? “

“I am looking.” Jason replied in a startled voice.

“Well?”

“Ah, well what?”  He muttered.

“Am I bit?” I demanded as I turned to look at him.

“No, but maybe I should take you in for flashing!” His eyes were a bit glazed.

Flushing a deep red, I tugged my shirt down and glared.  “Why are you out bothering innocent people walking their dogs instead of protecting the public from vicious animals?” I demanded. “I was attacked right here in the park and you did nothing!”

“You were not attacked. A baby squirrel fell on you.  What did you want me to do, shoot it?” he chuckled.

“At least we’d know if it had Rabies if you had!” I babbled as I checked Harper for marks and found none.  “He must think I’m an idiot,” I thought, wanting to hide under the sidewalk.

“You don’t have Rabies!” he nearly shouted with an exasperated sign . Poppi jumped back startled, and he reached down to soothe him.

“May I have my dog back, please? Unless you plan on arresting me and throwing him in the pound for trespassing in the park, “I growled at Jason.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Bree,” he replied. “I’m not throwing Poppi ‘in the pound,’ as you so eloquently put it although I should give you a ticket for having them both in the park.” In the face of my glare, he merely handed over the leash.

 “I’m going home to put antibiotic cream on these scratches. You can go do what you want. Good-bye!” I said spinning on my heel.  He shook his head as I stumped off. “

“You weren’t in the park,” I murmured to Harper and Poppi as we made our way home. “Everyone knows sidewalks don’t count. And they are on the edge of the park, not in the park anyway. Why does he keep showing up all the time anyway? I don’t need this after what Paul just pulled!” I sputtered to the dogs.  Paul was my last boyfriend—he who normally remains nameless! Harper ignored me as she sniffed an old lollipop wrapper.  Poppi gazed at me with adoring eyes, but he had just looked at Officer Krepsky the same way so I know longer trusted him.

When I got home I fumbled around putting ointment on the scratches, made sure the dogs had plenty of water and put their blanket out in the fenced-in yard. I tried to find a spot that didn’t have many dandelions so I didn’t have to worry about them getting stung by bees. However, the lawn was as covered with yellow as a Van Gogh original.

One good thing that had come of my encounter with the police this morning was that I finally had an idea for Wee Weeders. I grabbed my markers and went to work. I would have to send the draft to Candice and Megan before I started on the official signs, but knowing their senses of humor, I thought they would love it. I had sketched a cartoon of the diminutive dynamos in police uniforms brandishing weed whackers like bully clubs. They were both force marching a handcuffed, towering dandelion across a pristine lawn.  Their logo, “Let your big weeds be our little problem!” floated over their heads.  If only it were as easy to solve my problems. I had a feeling Jason wasn’t going to be as easy to pluck out of my life as a dandelion would be. A small part of me even dared to ask if I wanted him to be.