Tuesday, January 7, 2020

When the Apocalypse Comes, Don't Ring Our Doorbell by Carla Damron


It was an ordinary, somewhat anti-climactic day post-Christmas. I certainly wasn’t expecting another present, but the doorbell rang, in clear defiance of our porch mat that reads, “Ring the Doorbell and I’ll Sing the Song of My People—The dog”. I hurried to answer it, not an easy feat with two seventy-pound beasts clambering for the door. Ella, the foster-fail, hound dog/lab/Rhodesian Ridgeback mutt, barked with such ferocity that she must have thought the presence of someone on our porch was a sign of the apocalypse. Shadow, the affable lab, barked because, well, Ella was barking. Shadow is highly suggestible.

Shadow (good dog) on left, Ella (Beelzebub) on right. 
I cracked open the door to find a delivery man holding a package: a late Christmas gift. He was a young guy, small framed, and dimpled. He looked about as threatening as a loaf of bread, but not to apocalypse dog. Ella’s bark doubled in volume, and the poor UPS guy backed away as though being attacked by the three-headed beast guarding the Sorcerer’s Stone.


“She’s not going to hurt you,” I yelled over her war cries. “She’s actually quite friendly.”  
He did not believe me. They never do.

Because my efforts to calm the dogs made them sound more ferocious, I concluded that the best plan was to send Mr. UPS on his way. It was when I reached for the package that this plan (like most of mine) shattered to bits: my pants snagged on the door’s strike plate.

Picture this: I have one leg outside the door, the rest of me inside, my fanny viciously attached to the doorframe. Howling dogs scrambling to get out. Dimpled UPS guy, eyes wide, completely unable to help yet unwilling to abandon me in my precarious—and humiliating—state. And also, fearing for his life.

I could not see back there to figure out how to unstick myself.  Each attempt to pull away was met with the sound of ripping fabric and the threat of my ample rear being exposed.

I’m not sure how long I tried to free myself, though it felt like two and half years. Finally, in an act of sheer desperation, I gave the pants a good yank. RIIPPPP. The delivery guy let out a nervous laugh of relief, tossed me the package, and sprinted back to his truck. “Thank you?” I yelled at the retreating figure.

Back inside the house, the dogs sat innocently wagging their tails, proud that, once again, they had prevented the apocalypse. The pants, which were practically new, sported a dime size hole directly over my right butt cheek.

The package was a photo album from friends in Maine. I think I’ll send them the bill for my pants.

I’m not sure how, but this event will make its way into my writing. If not the actual details, then the emotion—my nearly bared-butt humiliation, or the UPS dude’s sense of fear and utter powerlessness. Hey, we’ve all been there, haven’t we?

Any holiday mishaps on your end? Any calamitous events that just might make their way into your fiction?

12 comments:

  1. I'm laughing, Carla, and I'm sorry about that! (Still laughing though.) Speaking of making it into a story, I suspect the UPS guy is sharing that one too!

    Thankfully no mishaps here this holiday season, but oh yes, they always make it into my fiction. Hey, if we have to suffer the pain and/or humiliation, we might as well get some story fodder out of it!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Oh, Carla, what a mishap! I agree, channel the inner emotion. Why didn't the UPS guy leave the package on your doormat?

    I'm currently training Lou the Wonder Dog, who can slither through or break down every gate we own. At fifteen weeks, he grabs pens and papers off the kitchen table. However, our only Christmas mishap was our four year old standard poodle, Jazz, who plucked a wooden ornament off the tree and chewed it to splinters. We have a toddler fence around the tree and nothing hung below the four foot line, but that wasn't enough to foil her.

    Onwards in the new year!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Exactly, Annette! And Margaret, when it's pets vs Christmas tree, the tree generally loses. Scout, our tuxedo cat, knocked ours over last year, though she claimed innocence.

    ReplyDelete
  4. We used to have a not-particularly-smart dog (Puli mix) who, every year when we set up the tree, would get a foggy notion in his brain. "Ah, they've brought in a tree for me! I always thought that it was unfair the cats have two pans inside to use, and I have to go outside."

    We learned to watch him until he lifted his leg on it, then scold him. He was always most apologetic, and it only happened that one time each year, but it did happen every year.

    ReplyDelete
  5. That's funny, KM!!!
    And someone sent me this: https://raisedvibrations.org/ups-drivers-have-a-facebook-group-about-dogs-they-meet-on-their-routes-and-it-will-make-your-day/?fbclid=IwAR1HODW1K4m5KS-fukSyWxzhaE1RuvVnlvfV6Yk9EjhNk0KbANoglTFdGCc

    ReplyDelete
  6. Hilarious! Don't think badly of me for chuckling. Kudos to your UPS man for sticking it out!

    KM - we went though the same thing with one of our dogs. Every year you could see those eyes light up - oh, look, indoor plumbing!

    ReplyDelete
  7. Funniest story of the season for me! Thanks for the laughter.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Love your story! I fell, ridiculously, down five front porch steps... while the Amazon Prime driver watched, his mouth in a CAPITAL "O." However, as I flung out my arm for balance, my right foot landed on the ground and I stood up as if in a perfect dismount of sorts. The chiropractor just diagnosed it as a "rodeo whiplash." At least you have the vicious dogs for comfort in your apocalypse.

    ReplyDelete
  9. A friend's Bernadoddle (Part Burmese Water Dog--Part Standard Poodle) joined us for dinner one night. In September, I held him in my lap--he was a puppy. Three months later he's as big as a moose! He stood by me in the kitchen while I cooked. At one point, I had to get to the sink through him--so I straddled him to get there. I could have rode him--he's that big. He sure has learned a lot in a few months. Yeah, okay, I did give him some chicken treats.

    ReplyDelete
  10. A fun recounting of your experience. It definitely needs to go into your writing.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Your poor pants! I was thinking it would be too much if the package wasn't really for you.

    ReplyDelete
  12. Those dogs aren't going to make it onto UPS Facebook page of the sweet dogs delivery men meet along their routes.

    ReplyDelete