A mother bear does anything to protect her den.
On that fateful Friday morning, I was the farthest thing from a mother bear.
In fact, I was more like this giraffe. (I'm not proud, people.)
Luckily, my cubs were safely waiting in the air-conditioned car where they didn't have to witness the ridiculous scene that played out.
We live in the suburbs of Albuquerque and the only disturbances we have are those freaking annoying door to door salesmen telling me that that if I don't buy their candy they will go back to being in a gang. Anyone else deal with this?
This particular day, a stray German Shepherd the size of a flipping pony was roaming the neighborhood. I'm 5'3" and could ride this beast like Napoleon, victoriously riding into battle.
It was large and in charge.
I strapped my little ones into their car seats and ran back inside to grab some snacks and sippy cups in order to avoid a cosmic meltdown later on. (DO NOT FORGET SNACKS, NEW MOMS. EVER.)
Mistake #1: I left the garage door open.
You can only imagine what happened next.
As I rounded the kitchen corner, bags of Cheddar Bunnies in one hand, blue Nalgenes in another, I froze.
There. Was. A. Freaking. Dog. In. My. Hallway.
Not just any dog, but one so big that it made Golden Retrievers look like lap dogs.
I shrieked and threw the Cheddar Bunnies behind me as if I could possibly save their sweet, cheddar lives.
Here came this dog who pranced down my hallway like he was king of the castle.
And there stood me, back pressed against the wall, trying to make my way past him.
A bead of sweat dripped down my face as I grabbed his collar hoping to bring this giant outside.
"Yeeeeeeeelp!" Went the dog.
"Heeeeeeeelp me!!!!" I screamed as I ran out into the garage and frantically searched my cul-de-sac looking for someone to rescue us from this beast.
I ran toward a dude who was monitoring water meters and pleaded for help. "Sir! Sir! Please help me! There's a giant stray dog in my house. It's like a pony, but not and it might have rabies, but I'm not sure!!!!"
He looked like I had just told him that his foot was connected to his body. He slowly walked with me into my house, not realizing this was an emergency.
My house was being held captive by a stray dog for crying out loud! We could be killed!
I apologized for the mess in my family room explaining, "We've had a big morning playing and have to run out the door before nap so..." and cut myself off mid sentence. There was a giant animal inside my house and I was rambling on about not being able to clean up before he came in.
I am seriously such a woman.
Did I mention this guy might have been stoned? Oh yeah. He waltzed in the kitchen and with his surfer accent, he corralled the dog by the cabinets.
"Here doggie doggie. Here!" And then he made kissy noises like it was a precious, docile kitten.
Was I taking crazy pills? Was I the only one who saw Cujo?
Surfer dude water man took the dog outside and I inched my way along the side of my car still worrying he would get free and mangle my ear or something.
I quickly opened my car door and then slammed it shut. As I backed out of the garage, I thought I might have been in a dream state.
There sat surfer dude laughing with Killer Rabies Pony Dog as the dog licked his hand like it was filled with the most delicious peanut butter on the planet.
I gave an awkward wave and drove off.
And then remembered I left the Cheddar Bunnies inside.
Needless to say, we ate Chick Fil-A that day.
Jen Hembree Co-Founded HaHas for HooHas.
Learn more about Jen in the About Us.