I’ve recently been presented with a new situation that is slightly concerning. This situation is unchartered territory for me and at this point I’m not entirely sure what steps I should be taking to avoid this complication.
My dog is scared of my exercise pants.
Due to the extensive rain and colder weather this winter I have been doing the majority of my exercising indoors. On any given day I could be “shredding” with Jillian, “cheering” with the DC Cheerleaders, “sweatin'” with Richard or “walking away the pounds” with Leslie. And, since we’ve recently acquired a flat screen plasma television neatly mounted above our fireplace in the front room (yeah…definitely Jer’s doing) I have been gettin’ my workout on in there. (Because, everyone knows, the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders just don’t look quiteattractive enough on a standard screen without high definition.)
Now, normally, Lewis (the dog) is attached to me like a fly to a pile of poop. Wait. That would make me the ‘poop’. Bad analogy. Um, how about this one. Lewis is attached to me like candy to a fat kid. Dangit. Okay, you get the picture. He’s attached. Moving on.
A couple of weeks ago, I had just talked myself off the couchandLeslie Sansone was in my brain willing me to Walk Away the Cheezits.I headed toward the bedroom and my good ol’ sturdy exercise pants, my little buddy trailing closely behind me.
This is when I was faced with the new situation.
As Ibegan pulling up myexercise pants I noticed Lewis looking at me…his furry face riddled with fear.
“What’s up, buddy?” I asked.
He started backing away from me, slowly.
I stood there, my winterized legs (in terrible need of a shave) glowing brightly in contrast to my black lycra pants. I suddenly felt very vulnerable. Was it the sight of me in these less than attractive pantscausing his sudden trepidation? Were my white legs causing his imminent panic attack?
Watching him back away from me, I pulled my pants all the way on and reached down to quickly shove my feet in my Nikes.
That did it.
The little puff-ball beat feet and dove under Jer’s desk. If the dude could drive I’m pretty sure he would have been halfway across the country before I figured out what was happening.
Jer, who I forgot was at his computer and had sat there watching the entire exchange, said,”That was weird.”
“Um, yeah. What’s his problem?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. He’s under my legs though and I don’t think he’s moving,” Jer said.
“All I did was put on my…Oh. My. God. He hates my exercise pants.” Of course! Wait…what?
“Mindy, he doesn’t hate your exercise pants. Why would he? That makes no sense.”
“Um, I don’t know,Jer. But as soon as my leg slid into these things the dog freaked out. Okay? I need to go work out. We’ll figure this out later.” I stomped out, slightly affronted over my dog’s apparent prejudice against athletic apparel.
I started my workout, trying to shake the image of my little dog’s fear-filled eyes, shivering helplesslyunder my husband’s legs.
About halfway through my sweat-fest I noticed Jer had entered the room, laughing.
“What, Jer?” I huffed.
“I figured it out. I figured out what’s wrong with Lewis!”he answered, between bouts of laughter.
“Okay, what is it?”
“Every time you take a step on that hardwood it sounds like elephants are partying it up in the living room. The pounding is resonating through the house.” Jer was standing there, shaking his head. Proud of his discovery.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Did you just compare me to an…elephant?”
“Um…huh?” Jer asked, his voice suddenly modulating like a pre-pubescent boy.
“An elephant, Jer? Really?”I asked.
So, as you can see, I find myself in a new situation. I apparently will need to approach my dog’s needs with more sensitivity. At the very least I should be working out with a lighter step so as not to resonate an elephant-like stompthroughout the house. Thanks a lot for that, Jer.
So did Lewis have company in the dog house last night?
Oh, yes. And he was sooo happy about it. =)
Oh, Thank you Mindy! I needed this laugh. Critters are so funny. I can hammer a nail in the wall and the bunnies are fine, then I clear my throat or sneeze and they panic.
Aren’t they? I love that about your bunnies…I can totally relate. Sometimes if I sneeze my dog looks at me with an expression that says, “Geez…you coulda warned me.” =)
The Lumberjack's Wife says
Too funny! If it is of any comfort, we have wood floors and when my small children are playing upstairs, it also sounds like elephants! 🙂
Okay, I do feel better now. Thank you. =)
I’m not sure you tried hard enough to find THE most unflattering analogies in the history of words. Really…I expect more from you. 😉
Oh, I could probably come up with some others…Let me think.
Like a maggot to rotten meat. =)
Ok, well, yes…there ya go.
Obsessive-Cumpulsive Listmaking: Lori 1 Mindy 0
Totally gross-out analogies: Lori 0 Mindy 1
We’re tied now!
Was Jer cowering under his desk, too, after that remark? 😀 Just remember, there was a 2 year old that lived below us, and what was my nickname for her: The Herd of Elephants. A 2 year old! Who I’m pretty sure weighs alot less than you. Hell, she probably weighs less than my cat! LOL
Yeah, Jer quickly realized his mistake. And he’s made no more elephant remarks since. I feel better now that I know about your neighbor. Although, now I’m wondering if Jer was underplaying with the “elephant” analogy. =)
Poor Lewis. Poor Mindy. Poor Jer and his truly unfortunate word choice. Men!
Poor woodfloors… =)
In my book, that’s a good enough excuse NOT to exercise…don’t want to traumatize the dog!
Oh, I’ve never thought of that one! I’m adding it to the list.
Oh, me too! I love it. Thanks for the new excuse. I’ve been needing one. =)
Wonderful, delightful, and down right funny.
Thank you, Kim! And, unfortunately, true. =)
Angelia Sims says
LOL. So the dog SEES the pants and KNOWS the stomping is coming up. So he runs and hides from the “scary stomping pant lady”. Where did his mom go?
I think the dog needs therapy. The Dog Whisperer. Dog hypnotist. Hey I know this smacks good reality TV. 🙂
I should start shopping networks to see who’ll give me the best deal, eh? =)
Jer, open mouth and insert foot! My hubby says..How did that foot taste?
Jer should probably be a foot-ageterian…his foot is always in his mouth. =)
I’m pretty sure Jer’s comment made sense in his head….at least that’s what Scott says and he’s back pedalling…
Yep, Jer does this kind of thing all of the time. It *ALWAYS* makes sense…in his head. Usually nowhere else. =)
I always enjoy reading your blog. I don’t get to it but every few weeks, but it’s always good! You are good at writing.
Thanks so much Jobina! I definitely appreciate you reading but I really appreciate your comment!! =)
My dog is afraid of the bathroom…No, not for the reason you’re thinking. I have apparently not only an obsession with my weight, but also my dog’s weight. I pick her up and stand on the scale. She looks prettiest at about 48 lbs. At 52 lbs she is too heavy…
This obsession is courtesy of an article I read once that said overweight people have overweight pets. This promptly made me fear that if my dog got fat, it was a direct reflection of my figure. Sick and weird, but there, nonetheless.
My dog hates being weight=ed. I still make her doing it. Cuz I’m just crazy that way!
I’m the opposite. I hate seeing my own weight on the scale let alone my own with an added 8 pounds for dog! Your dog would love my bathroom! =)
That is too funny Min! Love reading your blog!!
Thanks Sandee! My BFF! =)
Oh, both the dog and the hubby are in trouble now!
Oh yeah…Jer quickly learned his mistake and still hasn’t *quite* paid me back for it yet. =)