When I was a little girl I was allowed to get a puppy. Talk about pure joy. We went to the pound and I picked out a scruffy little guy who had a lot of personality. I named him Charlie. He grew up to be quite a dog. Fiercely protective over me and my brothers, but he also liked our friends and he became the neighborhood dog, much like Snoopy, but not quite as cute. He played with us, loved to go on car rides and was a great companion. We would use him to pull us up the hill in our wagon, then he would jump in and ride down with us. When he got tired of pulling us, he wouldn’t just sit down like most dogs, he would take off and deliberately run us into a tree. He had an ornery side to him and I swear he would laugh at us. He also hated to be left out of any family activity.
On one particular Sunday he decided to follow us all to church. Our church was only a few miles away. My mom was the organist there and she sang too. She was always in demand as she was very talented and had a beautiful voice. We also attended school at this parish so everyone knew us. The organist sat up and off to the side of the altar with her back to the altar and the congregation.
This particular Sunday was warm so the church left the main doors open. Part way through mass I could hear a slight commotion behind us. As I turned to see what it was, I saw to my surprise Charlie walking right up the middle of the main aisle. Since all the neighborhood kids knew Charlie they were all trying to call to him. He ignored them all completely. When he passed our pew I saw my father take a double take when he saw Charlie. He angrily in a hushed voice called to him. Charlie stopped, gave my father a look with a slight grin and trotted off straight to the altar. I saw my father put his hands over his face and peer out between his fingers like he watching a horror movie. Remember, my mom’s back was to the altar.
Charlie proceeded to trot straight up to the altar and stare right at the priest. The priest stared back, but continued on with the mass without missing a beat. After a few moments of listening to the priest, Charlie walked around the altar and started to investigate. The priest motioned to the altar boys to “get” Charlie. This became quite an amusement to Charlie as he began to run from them. He loved for you to chase him. He would wait till they got close and at the last moment dash away.
Now Charlie was running circles around the altar with two altar boys chasing after him. All the while the priest kept right on saying mass. The laughter from the congregation though kept getting louder. My mother, hearing the laughter tried to ignore it at first as she played and listened for her cues, but you could see her looking out of the corner of her eye at us, like what is wrong? When she finally did turn around and saw what was going on, my father at the same time slumped in his pew like he was diving into a foxhole during war. He knew she was going to blow.
I’ll never forget the horror on my mom’s face when she saw Charlie and the altar boys running around the altar like a racetrack. I’ll also never forget how her voice sounded like the Exorcist when she screamed at Charlie and pointed sharply at the door to go home! Charlie knew she meant it as he stopped, looked at her and then without any further ado trotted down the aisle and out to home. Mom looked at all of us with a look that makes you wonder if you should say goodbye to your friends now and ask them to pray for you.
We all knew that Charlie would not live to see tomorrow when we got home. I was praying that he would not be there, that he would be smart enough to hide out in the woods till mom’s wrath at being embarrassed would blow over. You did not embarrass my mother! Charlie was waiting there on the front porch for us when we got home. He did survive. He got off with a lecture, no supper and dragged to the log chain where he was to spend eternity according to my mother. He was pardoned the next day though. Luckily he lived to go on being the neighborhood dog and was the talk around school and the neighborhood. Charlie never did again visit church.
We never were allowed to get another dog after Charlie. I wonder why?
No part of this story may be reproduced without permission. Copyright 2009
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