L had an eventful day at home with the furkids yesterday when I was at work. He heard sirens and looked downstairs to find one Rhino (it's an open vehicle with a mounted water hose, smaller and more manoeuverable than a fire engine but without the ladders and other equipment), two fire engines and one ambulance pulling up.
The former crime reporter in him leapt to the rule-of-thumb action: one Rhino, watch and see what's going on; anything more than two engines, get out fast.
So he harnessed and leashed the dogs and as a quick afterthought, slipped the tupperware of dog treats in his pocket -- because they could be out of the house for a few hours, if not all night, he reasoned.
His second thought when they were downstairs, watching and waiting: he forgot their water bowls. What if they got thirsty during the wait?
Our passports, bank books, money, and all other important stuff were his third thought.
There's dog parents and their priorities for you.
And nothing happened. All the emergency vehicles drove off. But the firemen came over to pat the dogs first.
Queeni was not impressed. But Rupert wants to be a firetruck Dalmatian when he grows up.
No comments:
Post a Comment