Squeeeeze

The last 2 years we’ve had a service auction as a church activity.  Last year I won the 5k training, which turned out to be an enormous blessing and was the impetus for my ability to do the Epic relay.  This year I won homemade donuts.  My priorities have shifted. 

I donated pet sitting as my service.  I envisioned watching a goldfish or a pet rock, certainly not an animal that required actual attention.  I know now that I should have put that in the fine print.

I ended up pet sitting a dog.  A big dog.  Actually, a big, obnoxious puppy.  His name is Sam and he’s a Golden Retriever, Poodle mix.  He’s the typical puppy in that he tried to eat every one of Eva’s toys, he peed on the carpet when he was excited, he dug a hole in our grass, he ran up the street and wouldn’t come back so I had to chase him for at least a hundred miles in the blazing sun, he jumped up on me, he jumped up on Eva, he bit Myke’s hand when he was trying to feed him some meat trimmings, and he humped poor Aika ALL THE TIME.  It was a really fun week.

We ended up having to leave both dogs either in the yard or in the garage because they were very destructive in the house together.  It was hot so we’d leave the garage door open a skosh so they could have some air flow.  Those dogs tried to squeeze out of that tiny opening every day.  It was very entertaining.  I should have invited my neighbors and charged admission.  I tried to tell the canines it wouldn’t work and that they wouldn't be able to get through the space.  I know what I’m talking about.  I have experience trying to squeeze in and out of things.  Mostly pants. 

Here’s how it works when you attempt to squeeze into an area smaller than your mass.  For example, pants.  You get one leg into the pants with little effort, thus confirming your idea that you can actually fit into the trousers, but the second leg is a problem once the fabric has tightened.  You jump and wiggle and squirm while pulling on the poor waistband like it’s taffy until the pants finally inch over the bulk of junk in your trunk.  Even though you are out of breath and beginning to sweat from exertion, you feel like you’ve been successful so you go ahead and make the poor decision to zip the fly and secure the button.  This is where you suck air to fill your lungs to capacity, then hold your breath while the button refuses to make the journey through the button hole, even though you’re pushing so hard on it your fingers are turning purple from the force.  This step in the process has to be repeated multiple times until you are light headed from holding your breath and necrosis has set in on your finger tips.  This step can also be attempted while lying prostrate, allowing gravity to help distribute your giant apron.  However, this option makes it a bit more difficult to maneuver the button since you can no longer see it. 

In the rare event that you actually get the pants buttoned, you can’t participate in any activity that requires moving, sitting, bending, twisting, or breathing.  It’s best just to lie on the couch and watch TV.  When it’s time to remove the trousers, you must engage a partner to pull on the pant legs while you hang onto a stationary object.  Be advised that this carries a high risk of ripping the pants.  Your only other option is to fill the bathtub with acid and sit in it until the fabric dissolves. 

You’re better off throwing the pants away in the beginning and accepting that you’re a chub.

Can you believe those dogs just looked at me and blinked when I gave them all this free and valuable advice?

You can lead a horse to water…