BOOGER TALES - Final segment (Scroll down for earlier segments)

    

 

      ...Hearing Booger whining, Mom came in and saw him looking up, staring at “Hamburger Heaven.”    

     “It looks like ‘responsible ownership’ has gone out the window,” Mom said. 

     “Yeah, I guess I should shut it before anymore tries to leave.” 

     I could sense impending doom.  It arrived sooner than I expected.  “After this hamburger returns to earth, you can get some soap and water, and clean the ceiling,” she continued.  “Then, since you love camping, you and Booger can trade places tonight.” 

     After scrubbing down the ceiling, I grabbed my sleeping bag and trudged out the door.  As I bedded down for a long, cold night, Booger was enjoying my warm bedroom.  He would occasionally look out the window with a big smile and wave.  I was too numb to wave back. 

     Booger quickly earned a reputation as a highly-skilled and discriminating retriever.  When I think of retrieving, I’m thinking birds.  Booger and I didn’t think alike.  He had no interest in birds.    

     I tried taking him duck hunting, but he was a lousy shot.  He did manage to round up a decoy, but I told him to leave them alone; they were too hard to clean. 

     Booger’s specialty was “Clothesline Clothes Removal.”  He would only go on point at the sight of clothes hanging from a clothesline.  I could throw a ball or a stick for him to fetch, and he would turn up his nose in contempt.  But someone across town could hang clothes out to dry in the middle of the night, and they would arrive at our doorstep before the morning paper.

     While I was at school, Booger was laying waste to the neighborhood.   I’m surprised he didn’t break out windows and set fire to homes.  Clotheslines were stripped of stockings, underclothes, pants, and any shirts that fit.  If there was a stray shoe on the porch, he would grab it.

     He found great delight in depositing his collection around the yard. He seemed to find particular joy in leaving all the undergarments on the front porch. 

     After several episodes, I was afraid to walk home from school.  Going home meant finding people sorting through clothes in our yard, looking for the right match, or knocking on our door, asking if Booger might have buried one of their dress shirts in the back yard.  For some reason, there seemed to be growing resentment toward Booger and his owner. 

     It was the only time in my life I hated to leave school.  The school dismissal bell sent shivers galloping down my spine.  That meant it was time to go home, and I didn’t want to go home.  I would have preferred being locked up in isolation with algebra.  Instead, I was locked out of school, with no protection.     

     Each passing day brought the increased risk of facing a hostile crowd, throwing rocks and chanting for their clothes. 

     Booger was looking more and more like a rental dog.

     Certainly, a hardened criminal on the run would have been an easier boarder.

     Everyone was Booger’s best friend.  Unfortunately, the reverse wasn’t true.  If you glanced at Booger out of the corner of your eye, you’d soon find yourself on the ground, with Booger sitting on you, and a big smile on his face.  Most who ever met Booger said they would have preferred being bitten.

     After broken knick-knacks, waiting for hamburger to return to earth, and finding more clothes in our yard than she had in her closet, mom said the experiment was over.  Besides, most of the clothes didn’t fit.  She also wanted her friends to return.

     Having an irresponsible dog was worse than having an irresponsible son.  The only thing Booger had taught me was to leave my clothes in the yard.

     Some suggested I leave Booger on someone’s doorstep, but I didn’t want to destroy another family.  It would take some time to calculate the damage to our own family.

     If you’ve never owned a dog, try renting one first.

 

 

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