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What a Lady....What a Night!
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Shirley Greene |
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Published: |
Dog Sports Magazine
Shiloh Zone
Bandog Banter
Working Dogz Cyberzine |
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Last night, Wednesday, July 14, we had rain in Scottsdale, AZ. Now, rain in Scottsdale, AZ is NOT like rain in KY or IL or really anyplace else, except maybe Phoenix, AZ. It was, as I call it :" A Frog Chokin' Rain." In about 90 minutes our cul-de-sac was 2 ft. under water. Thanks to all the re-engineering of our lot 2 years ago - - and those wonderful "burp" valves that the builder was forced (under court order) to install, my front yard was puddle free. However, my neighbors down at the end of the cul-de-sac not only had their water - without the burp valves and re-engineering- but they had Pima Freeway water. It was an 18-24 in. deep pond - water lilies optional.
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Now, the brain dead construction workers who are putting up a decorative sound barrier of colorful concrete (yep, only in Scottsdale is a concrete wall called a sound barrier and painted purple and tiled in red - although I believe they call it crimson) decided to wash their equipment, nightly, right down into our STORM drain. Yep, when it STORMED, we didn't drain. In fact, our cup runneth over - as did our cul-de-sac! |
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I discovered this at about 4:30 PM and at 9:30 PM when I took the dogs out, there were nice waves breaking over the curb in front of my house and the pond had grown about 9 inches deeper. My neighbor, with white French poodle tucked under her arm, was wading through the water to get back into her house after taking the poodle (all 10 lb. of him) to higher ground to poop. This neighbor, I may add, is the typical JAP. No insult intended. I am Jewish and from Kentucky. So, I've always aspired to someday reach that level. I do windows, I do floors, I do dogs, but I haven't quite got the hang of being more like Joan Rivers than Yentl.
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As for my neighbor, she drives not only a Mercedes, but a GOLD Mercedes. When I pass her on the greenbelt, she is running in logo-matching outfits - complete with earrings and bright red lipstick. So, of course, she had on a beautiful yellow slicker and designer rain boots - up to her knees.
Everything matched - even the poodle - his nails were yellow. Quite fetching, really...
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Being a German Shepherd, IKE didn't need to be carried. He was quite capable of hanging his own butt off the side of the patio, where it was dry. The poodle in our house, Teena, is even smarter than IKE. She went to the end of the patio and didn't even turn around to do her business. She deposited it on the last brick and said to me "so there." Off to bed we went.
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3:00 AM. All is still. IKE isn't barking. Teena is snuggled under me. Jeff, my spouse, is in Memphis. Jeff is always someplace and it is never, ever here. I hear a sound that can't be described. It is a cross between a Cuckoo Clock run amuck and a fan belt going out on a 66 Ford Fairlane. IKE sleeps; Teena sleeps. I get up. I am in Jeff's old boxers and a muscle shirt - go ahead and laugh. Even when Jeff is HOME, I go to bed this way. I put on a pair of huarachas, grabbed a gun and a flashlight and then woke up my personal protection dog. He yawned and went back to sleep. That should have told me: "Be not afraid."
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By now I was wide-awake and as Curious as George. Out the garage door I went, leaving IKE on the dry side of the garage, door open, on a Sit/Stay - still yawning.
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I ventured into the cul de sac waters - up to my ankles, across my calves and behind the knees. As I approached the storm drain - excuse me "storm dam" - there sat a FROG the size of a dinner plate - the source of the strange sound. See, IKE was right. At the moment I hit the frog with my flashlight, I got placed into another's spotlight. Not by the frog - but by the JAP neighbor. |
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I screamed; she screamed; we all screamed - - - at the sight of me! Screams are what make protection dogs wake up. So, right on cue, like the great dog he is, IKE came running, mouth open, teeth shining - - lookin' to take a bite out of Mrs.-Gucci-in-boots! I call him OUT and he did, while splashing me with dirty sewer water, mixed with German Shepherd hair and spit. As I swung around, my flashlight shown down upon "her."
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I was mud, spit, hair and wet muscle shirt plastered to my flat chest. She was wearing those darling boots, hot pants in yellow vinyl, and a precious camisole top, revealing 38DD breasts. (Those of us who don't have breasts know the size of other women's - - trust me on this.) In her hand was a yellow plaid dishtowel and from it came a BIG, GREEN, FROG the size of a dinner plate. She said, totally dean pan: "It must have followed me home from the 9:30 PM walk and its mate is calling. I found it on my kitchen floor and decided to play match maker." As I watched her lips move, I noted: yep, the lipstick is on and not even smudged. With that, she dropped the frog and the sounds immediately doubled in decibels!
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I trudged back home, IKE in tow. Lost one of the huarachas in the current. Boxers around my hips, shirt drenched, I gave one last glance to Ms. JAP. She was perched on the wall, having a cup of something steaming hot and watching those 2 frogs.
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I said to myself: "This ain't Kentucky. Welcome to Scottsdale." And, if she reports me to the fashion police, I'll be cited and possibly placed on probation at Fashion Square Mall. Still and all, it was a good experience and I'm really glad to know those burp valves, and IKE, really do work in a pinch! Now, gotta remember to look for that lost huaracha the next time the sewer overflows. It's just hell having only one "dress" shoe! |
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