We met one evening while I out shooting pool and we agreed to get together for some coffee. That had gone quite nicely. I invited her over to my place for some spaghetti and a video the next night. She accepted. I was pleased.
At the time I was renting a little farm house out in the country and was living there alone except for my dog, a goofy black lab named "Nick". A great setting for a romantic interlude.
The sauce was simmering away that afternoon, smelling great, when Nick pawed the door wanting in. As she came in I noticed she'd somehow cut the tip of her tail and a steady stream of blood was flowing from it. I'd never known the tip of a dog's tail was that richly supplied with blood. I grabbed for her collar so I could haul her to the bathroom to apply some first aid and save the livingroom carpet.
Nick was absolutey overjoyed that we were going to play! She sprang back, wagging her tail wildly in doggy joy. Thick streak after streak of blood struck the walls, the lampshade, my shirt; and oozed slowly down. A CSI wetdream! In horror I sprang at her. More doggy fun!
It took a minute or two to corral her, then I finally got her into the bathroom and shut the door on the both of us to keep her in. After a couple miinutes of wrestling in there, trying to figure out appropriate first aid for the tip of a dog's tail, I decided to make a quick check on the simmering sauce to make sure the sauce wasn't boiling over.
Did I mention I hadn't closed the door after letting Nick in the house? Well, I stepped out of the bathroom, sweaty with plenty of blood streaking my shirt, and found Terri had let herself in. She was looking around the livingroom watching fresh blood drip down the walls and furniture. She heard the bathroom door close, turned, and saw me. The look on her face left me a little speechless and all I could really say was, "It's my dog..."
We never really did hit it off after that.