Monday, August 07, 2006

Daddy Dolittle

Over the years my Father has been a source of amusement for our family. He labels EVERYTHING to the point of insanity and his clothing is organized and meticulously kept - to the point where if you were to so much as move a sock he knows. But the amusement I write about today (as you may have surmised from the title) revolves around his relationship with animals - the big and the small.

Ever since I was a little girl, I've had this love of animals and an uncanny ability to make friends with the wild and the misunderstood. I have even been known to have a wild robin land on my hand ala Snowhite. I have conversed with wild deer and helped an injured crow. I have nursed motherless squirrels and raised feral cats. I have befriended old circus ponies and rescued butterflies. My father, however, has had... well a slightly different relationship with the wild.

Any dog - ANY DOG - will run up to my father (who eagerly awaits them - "well hello there little fella") and they will look lovingly at him before they lift their leg and pee on him. This has really and truly happened. And happened often. I recall a cat that used to come to our house that was one of those overly friendly little cats with a slight nervous disposition that doesn't seem to have a home. At first my father ignored him - since he figured if he was nice to him I'd decide he was our new pet but, after a while my father started to pet him and play with him. Then one day decided to correct him for playing a little to roughly - "No. You stop that little kitty. Right now!" Followed by the lightest of taps on the nose. The cat suddenly turned from cute kitten with great big eyes - to a fire breathing hellion that attempted to ingest my father's arm. He got such a bad infection that it almost killed him. Once - in a flash of brilliance - my father decided to befriend some elk. "They look friendly, wonder how close I can get..." I remember my mother's words fading into the background as the sound of charging hooves took over.... "...probably not such a good idea - isn't this their rutting season?" And then there was the time he decided to "gobble" at the turkeys. It sent them into attack mode instantaneously. I don't know what my father said in turkey - but whatever it was it pissed them off.

The funniest story, I have saved for last. It not only demonstrates my father's OCD tendencies, it also is a fantastic example of his twisted relationship with nature. My parents were in Hawaii. They were feeding the fish. The fish get very excited while they are being fed and they literally surround you. Well, as it happened, my father felt the need to urinate. Being in the ocean he managed to convince himself it would be alright to live on the edge and pee where he was. Most of us have done the same, right? However, being my fastidious father, he could certainly not accomplish this task in his bathing suit. So, he removed himself from his bathing suit. (who does that?) Anyways - remember the fish? YOU GUESSED IT. Chomp. My mother claims that the yelling and screaming could be heard for miles. I imagine the laughter could too - knowing my mother. He made my mother promise not to tell anyone but that night, at a company dinner (it was a conference) she got a little tipsy and started to laugh every time she thought about it. Eventually everyone in the room knew about it. If only you knew my father - he sat there with this very serious face all the while the entire room fell to the floor laughing over this entire scenario. Poor dad. "Sorry Charlie, only the best tuna get to be starkist".

11 comments:

B.E. Earl said...

"He made my mother promise not to tell anyone..."

Didn't say anything about telling his daughter not to post it on a very public blog forum. You go girl!

elizabeth said...

That thought did occur to me... but then - what the heck.

Kat said...

That is way too fuckin' funny. And knowing your dad and 'the face' he was surely making only highlights the whole story!
...and animals peeing on him? That's just priceless...note to self,liz, never take Dad to the petting Zoo.

B.E. Earl said...

Kat - Um, I think you may need to re-read the story. It's much worse than animals peeing on her father.

You see he was peeing on them when he got fish-bit on his, um, private area.

See? Much worse!

Slyde said...

ouch! one time in a pond in the carribean, i decided to stay really still and let all fish surround me. 15 minutes later, as if on cue, i got assaulted by 1000 little fish, but none bit me in my hey-nanny-nanny, thank god...

Kat said...

Yes earl, that was the funny part I was referring too...maybe I should have added this note to self,for liz's papa, fish go for the dangly bits.

Elizabeth McClung said...

That's very funny - your Dad comes across as a really nice guy; a really nice UNLUCKY guy who seems to want to believe that nature loves him, regardless of the evidence.

Reading this reminded me of how my father always believed that the could "talk to the animals" by making a "animal noise" except it was exactly the same noise to squirrels, ducks, deer and dolphins. "Dad, I'm pretty sure, dolphins don't sound like that." - "They understand" he would assure me. Yeah.

B.E. Earl said...

Aha, maybe I should have re-read the post before correcting you, Kat. My bad!

Earl is proven wrong again!

Mwah-ha-ha-ha, er, ha!

Kat said...

LOL earl, you're a spaz...and by the way you're earlier post would have had me spitting liquid through my nose except that I wasn't drinking anything...

funchilde said...

I'm sitting in Panera Bread totally snickering. Poor Pops! For shame you spreading his penis tales around the web like this! (keep em coming-the tales, not the penis!)

Joe_the_Troll said...

That's a riot! I hope your dad avoids snakes. And rodeos.