Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire!

This shouldn't bother me, but it does. So I'm going to write about it- it's what I do.

Bro and I live in a house we rent from our dad's dad. We've been trying since last fall to get our bathroom re-done, for various reasons it just hasn't happened. So Grandpa tells me his friends son is a carpenter and can do the work. Great! So Monday Grandpa brings over Handyman Brad. Handyman Brad is a CREEPER and a drunk. No, really. He called to set up a time to come install my front door and literally said, "You'll have to forgive me, I'm a little buzzed." NICE. But whatever, I don't have to deal with him... Grandpa does.

So I've got at least one drunk coming to my house (I definitely locked my bedroom door and advised Bro to do the same) to work on my front and back doors and a dog that is notorious for sneaking out. So I took Floyd to Doggie Daycare. That's right, Grandma's house. We went over last night for a little while to visit and set up his run. I also wanted Gram to practice putting Floyd on and off his lead, because while he's gentle and loving- he's also a clumsy blockhead and has almost knocked me down a time or two and I'm not 82. Oh, wait, it's 78- she started counting backwards once she hit 80. I'm going to get hit for those last two sentences, I know it!

ANYWAY, Gram and Floyd got to hang out today. He was, according to the babysitter, Very Good. My only two concerns with the whole situation were 1.) Floyd would eat Gram's cat or 2.) he would somehow knock her over/yank on her with the leash. But all was well. Gram said he would lay on the couch, then come sit with her awhile, then go look out the door. Floyd likes looking out the front windows and door to watch the traffic go by- he doesn't get a lot of that at our house...

When I came over after work, everything was fine so Gram and I went and got dinner at the steak place in town. It was either that or Bob Evans, but steak and sweet potatoes won. When we got back, my uncle was at Gram's house. When we got out he said, "I met your dog!" We had left Floyd in the garage, not really thinking that Uncle might come around, we didn't lock the garage door- or warn him the dog was in there. Luckily, Floyd just ran out, peed and came back to Uncle. I say "luckily" because the little pecker head has taken off on both Bro and me in the past.

I didn't realize but my Uncles daughter, my 10 year old cousin was in Gram's house with a friend of hers. Floyd has never, since his recorded history started at the Humane Society anyway, been around kids. Now 10 is different than 3 so I wasn't really concerned. He probably just thought she was a runt. When Floyd, Gram, Uncle and I walked in the first thing Runt said was "when we opened the garage door he growled at us!"

Now I'm about the most realistic person I know. I know no one is perfect- and you never really know what anyone - or anything- is capable of. So it's entirely possible that my dog growled at my cousin. I mean he was in a new place and they probably scared each other- he wasn't expecting a Runt to come running in the garage, and she wasn't expecting a dog to be in the garage- let alone a pit bull. And even though we've had Floyd for 4 months (well it will be 4 months on the 2nd) Runt had never met him.

But I've got a pretty good handle on my dog. And on Runt. She's a good kid for the most part- but most of our family members have caught her in bold faced lies. I mean, I lied as a kid, but generally it was to save my own tail- not just to cause drama. And I have never heard Floyd growl since we've had him. Bark, burp, fart, whine, whimper, yip, yelp- yes. Growl, no. (No I don't beat my dog- he's just a baby and thinks the world is ending if I leave him outside 1 second longer than he wants to be left out- hence the whining, whimpering, yipping and yelping.)

Gram and Uncle shut Runt down pretty quick though. Gram said, "oh I don't think he would growl." And Uncle said, "this is what he did when he met me," Floyd was licking his hand. Then Runt said it. The words that ticked me off. "Well, he is a pit bull."

And you my dear are a Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire.

A few seconds after that, she was down on the floor playing with Floyd- which totally affirmed my suspicion that she had been lying. When I was 10, if a dog had growled at me I would have left it the heck alone! Not gotten on the floor to play with it. Logically I know I should take the whole thing with a grain of salt- Runt is 10, she's a notorious liar/drama queen, she had a captive audience and a ready made 'villain'. A better scene could not have been set if she asked for it.

But it still ticks me off. If he wasn't a pit, if he was a regular old mutt we'd picked up at the pound- this never would have been an issue. It never would have happened. It's the old pit bull/ evil dog stereotype.

Bro and I both do what we can to show people that Floyd is a good dog. All 50 goofy, clutzy, silly, spazy, sleepy, farty, snuggly pounds of him.