Pardon Me, Would You Have Any Grey Poopon?

THIS is the umteenth stray dog to grace our property with its presence.

It's days like these that make an $11,000 fence not sound so out of reach and/or reason. He showed up this afternoon and of course had our two beasts upset. When I looked out the window, I saw that he wasn't really paying much mind to the owners of the property even though they were jumping and yelling hysterically at him to get the heck out or come real close so they can 'play'. So, I just let him be, figuring that he was on his way to greener pastures and would soon be a bother to someone else's hairy friends. Well; then, there came a knock at the door. The neighbor who is my animal downfall was at the door. It is perfectly impossible to be indifferent to stray animals when this huge-hearted lady is knocking at your door and asking, "Did you know you had a visitor?" Yes. I knew. And then it happened. She saw something. "What's that?" The dog was injured. Super. That's it. Party's over. Now, we must act. God put us over all the animals and all that. (I am slightly ashamed to admit that he also was looking on the thin side) - but in my defense - he WAS wearing a collar. SOMEbody owned this dog. Not this somebody; some other somebody. Okay, so I look down at the appalling gash that she is pointing out and say, "Ohhhhhkaayyyy. Can we get him in the car? What time is it? Is the local vet still open? AND WHAT are we going to DO with him after THAT?" Her response...."I don't know - but i'll pay half of whatever the vet charges." So she coaxes him into the van [MY VAN] with a dog biscuit and I lock the kids in the house and say, "I am going down the street! All the rules apply! Blah blah bl-*slam*" And do my best impression of a doggie ambulance driver who has no lights or sirens and must obey the country road speed limit. The vet was already gone, but the assistants kindly looked at him, and fell in love with his shy armylowcrawling and promptly told me he was definitely a (catahoula) cur, less than two years old, probably about 70lbs, and that this would not need to be stitched up, that he clearly had been taking good care of it himself. "Here's some antibiotics, some ointment and SCRUBBIES so you can clean it up." Huh?? They are both smiling and happy as if everyone on the planet can happily scrub a deep, gaping, fleshy wound. THIS deep, gaping, fleshy wound ....(this is gross - you may want to scroll past)

$10 later (not even gonna charge the neighbor half) and a bunch of coaxing him back to the van [MY VAN] I get him home and the kids spring into action. The rest is heroics of mounting barricades to walls with the super powered power drill and keeping down the angry beasts whose home has been invaded. again. The 15 year old has printed posters to give out at school - and one to post at the vet's, 12 year old boy did the scrubbing of the wound, and 12 year old girl leaned too far too fast in the recliner and bashed her head on the side table. This dog must go.

What's with the Grey Poopon? Okay, well, our dogs are named for their color - and we also think it is fun to try to name them after food. So we have Black Angus, Yellow Madison(which should be margarine but we forgot for a second and madison stuck) and now our temporary lost soul - Grey Poopon. Get it? Poop-on? As in dog...(I am not ashamed to laugh alone.)