FFHT - The Night We Fought For Our Lives

This month FFHT falls on Halloween so we are making an exception and opening the blog hop for 2 days so everyone can pawticipate!  Our special inclusion this month is:  "I knew there was no turning back now!"  See the tab on our blog for full FFHT information.  And now, on to our story:

This is a true story.  One evening, an evening just like all the rest, me and Stanley were vegging out and watching a little television with our pawrents.  We'd had a full day of walkies and playing ball so we were kinda tired and just in the right mood to chillax and have a couple root beers.

We were watching Netflix cuz Stanley does NOT like commercials interrupting his shows.  The lights were dimmed and frankly we were both having troubles keeping our eyes open any longer.  Finally, mom says that she is tired and it's time for bedtime.  Well me and Stanley are no dummies, we know what bedtime means.  So we jumped up, ready to go down the hall.  We like to get into bed ahead of mom and dad so they don't hog up all the space.  It's a tiny little bed called king sized so we have to grapple for every inch.

No sooner did we start down the hall when mom says it had been a long time since me and Stanley went outside (that's code talk for pee) so she told us to go outside.  Stanley headed down the stairs and I waited back to make sure mom thought I REALLY needed to go outside (pee).

So I finally followed mom down the stairs.  Just as we got to the bottom we heard dad start hollering.  Now anybody who knows my dad knows it is rare that he hollers and even when he does it's quiet in comparison to a real hollering.  So mom was alerted right away that there was some sort of problem.  She quickly tried to grab me and keep me from going out the door.  However, she is very old and not very fast.

At that same time, I heard Stanley holler "Help me brother, help me . . . I'm wounded!"  Well there wasn't a moment's hesitation! I slipped through mom's old, rickety hands and bolted out the door.  I was flying out the door, about 87 miles per hour, just as Stanley was running in the door . . . running for his life and foaming at the mouth!

The air was tense, full of danger.  It was so full of danger that I could smell it and it didn't smell good!  Mom says I have what is called a "strong prey instinct".  I don't know about that but I do know that I was experiencing a lot of emotion.  Something nearly killed my brother and it was gonna pay and pay big time!  As quick as I got through the door, I could see the predator that tried to kill my brother.  He was cowardly and running down our hill and trying to escape.  But my instincts were activated and on high alert.  I knew there was no turning back now!  I chased that coward down the hill while mom and dad yelled at me.  They used the "COME" command (my favorite one to ignore) and the "LEAVE IT" command.  Everyone was tense and full of emotion.  I was barking like crazy as I ran towards the bottom of the hill.  Dad had just installed some chicken wire along the bottom of our vinyl fence (to keep my ball from rolling out of the yard) so I knew that vile, vicious, no good fiend would be trapped unless he could climb over that wire!  I'd rip him to a zillion pieces for hurting my brother! If you mess with my brother then you mess with me!

Just as I was about to show him the power of my sharp teeth, he found a place where the chicken wire came together and slipped out.  He continued to run down the hill like the coward he was.  Since I could no longer take revenge on the lily livered coward, I went back up the hill towards the house.  I had to see if Stanley was still alive.

When I went in the door, mom and dad were yelling and Stanley was thrashing around on the floor.  Was he having convulsions?  Was he having a seizure?  My dog, what has happened to my brother?  At that point mom scooped me up and ran towards the bathroom.  Was I bleeding? Was I injured?  I heard dad grab Stanley and rush him into the other bathroom.  Was he performing first aid on him?  At that point I got scared.  I was so scared I think I could smell the fear.  No wait, that wasn't fear.  I smelled fear before and it didn't smell like this.  This smelled bad . . . REALLY REALLY bad!

And furiends, this is a true story.  This is how Stanley and I got skunked.

THE END

Murphy & Stanley

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