Murphy's Day Out

        Murphy’s Day Out

Suzanne Marsh

“Anything that can go wrong will go wrong.” Murphy’s law and my life at times so it would seem. Murphy has always been a pain in my backside, I have known this for years. Two weeks ago, Murphy was on a real roll as was apparent when I got out of bed. My husband Earl, is an early riser, with a sunny disposition, I am the opposite. I hated getting up early no matter the occasion, and this was an important occasion. I had been waiting for two years to visit Fort McKavett in Texas. Earl’s internal alarm clock went off just as our four little dogs decided it was time to rise and shine, they shine, and I rise. Earl let them out and hoped I was up and moving, we planned to leave early in the morning since it is at least a five-hour drive from home. We made arrangements with a pet sitter to care for the dogs. Murphy began our day with the pet sitter calling and stating she would be at least an hour late. I decided since she was going to be an hour late I would take a shower. That damn Murphy, I no sooner got into the shower when Earl came charging in:

“The pet sitter is here we have to go NOW!” I jumped out of the shower then jumped back in I forgot to rinse the cream rinse out of my hair. I grabbed my clothes pulling my jeans on as I ran around the bedroom, I couldn’t find my favorite pair of sneakers. I had worked so hard to ensure this weekend would run smoothly, things were not off to a great start, good ole Murphy. The dogs wanted to go with us, that was out of the question or so I thought. Our one little dog whose name suits her to a “tee” began to do her “siren” thing she has a very high pitch, and the sound she makes goes right through a human ear like a siren out on the street only I happen to have been standing right next to her. This was not boding well, Earl decided suddenly; they were going to take them with us, and the pet sitter took up forty dollars for this soon-to-be fiasco of a trip.

Earl got their crates and placed them in the trunk, then put a fence-type “thing” across the back seat thinking this would keep them from coming up front; this was not happening I had three dogs on my lap and Earl had the fourth one in his lap. Down the road we went, of course with the dogs it took six hours instead of five, this was going to cause a problem; since we now were going to have to spend a night in a motel. My job was to find one that would take us and four dogs, this was one of those; “mission impossible” things to say the least. I had not been planning to spend the night anywhere, so we had no clean clothes, I suspected Murphy the dirty rat for messing up my plans.

I finally found a motel near Fort McKavett that would take a dog, now I had to explain to the woman on the other end of the cell phone:

“Mam, we have four small dogs that don’t amount to one medium-sized dog.” The woman thought about it for a few moments:

“All right this is what I am willing to do; if you pay for two dogs the other two are free, will

that work?”

“yes mam” I responded; thankful everything was working out.

Murphy had other plans; upon arriving at the motel, appropriately named: “Green Acres”. Earl went inside to register, the motel looked as if it had appeared in the 1950’s movie set of “Psycho”. I half expected to see Tony Perkin appear with his skeletal mother. Earl came out with a key to “bungalow three”. Fort McKavett was in view from the motel, so we drove there for a quick look. There is no such thing as a quick look not for me at any rate. The fort was just closing but we could see buildings, the tour would have to wait until tomorrow morning.

Morning arrived, with the temperature in the high eighties, for Texas which is fairly cool in September. I didn’t care, this is what I had scheduled, a tour of the fort. We found a dog sitter; thanks to the woman at the motel so the dogs would be fine. The tour began the fort was a frontier fort later occupied by a company of “Buffalo Soldiers”, the Fort had remained open until the 1970’s some of the buildings were over one hundred years old. This was very interesting to me since I am a history buff. Earl usually goes along for the ride; actually, to drive, I would no doubt get lost if I went by myself; at least that was his rationale.

We returned to the motel, paid the pet sitter and relaxed momentarily until Siren decided she wanted outside ergo out all of us went. Earl had two dogs and I had two dogs, Murphy also decided to go on the walk with us. Millie on a good day is an escape artist, somehow she managed to get her head out of the collar, and we were off to the races. Earl and I are retirees and running after a dog is not very high on our bucket list, but we could not leave to run all over town. We went to the police station and asked if they could help us. The deputy reminded me of “Barney Fife” but he was willing to help us. He asked us to describe Millie, I was not trying to be smart with the deputy when I stated:

“That officer is simple just look for a jet-black walking dust mop.” He gave me a side glance as Earl nodded that was what she looked like. The deputy said he would do his best to find her, there were not many places where a dog could hide. Four hours later the cell phone rang it was the deputy:

“Lady, I have your black walking dust mop, I’ll drop her off at the motel in about twenty

minutes.”

I thanked him profusely as we began to take down the crates, put them in the trunk, and wait for the deputy. He arrived and returned Millie nonetheless for ware. She licked my face, she was ready to go for a nap. We loaded the dogs in the back seat, it was time to go home.

As for my scheduled day out well I planned it well before Murphy took over, turned our little minivacation into a mini nightmare, but damn he is good at that.