Friday, February 8, 2008

A Visit from the "Schwan's Man..."

Last night, while I was watching the "boob tube" and while Bruno was chewing on his bone, we had a visit from our Schwan's deliverer, Jerry. I have never realized the relationship between Bruno and Jerry before, but let me tell you, they are quite good friends.








As the Schwan's truck began driving up our driveway, (which is about a quarter-mile long), Bruno jumps up and runs over to the door, barking hysterically. Jerry and another Schwan's guy riding along in the truck, ring the doorbell as I am trying to grab onto Bruno so that I can push past him to go out into the porch, yet leave Bruno in the house. As Jerry sees me in the kitchen, he gives a little wave and opens up the screen door, then the back door and invites himself in.

Bruno is elated and instead of barking or running around like a maniac, or jumping on the guys, he is calm and sniffs at their feet a bit. Then he lets Jerry pet him. It was almost as if he went into a completely tranquill mode since he knew his buddy Jerry had arrived.




And how did Bruno react when Jerry went back out to the truck to get the food....well he cried and whined of course! He was happy again when Jerry returned to pet him and to offer him words of encouragement and love. Sickening! It seems that Jerry would often play B-A-L-L with Bruno during the summer months each time he came to our house. Bruno is fast friends with ANYONE who will throw his purple, chewed up, rubber football.
However, the story does not end there.
I too have a bit of a "past" with Jerry.

In early November 2007, during a rainy, Thursday evening, Bruno and I are home alone, and we get a visit from Schwanns. As I head outdoors, Bruno runs past me into the damp grass, runs around in his usual maniac fashion, and gets his ball. Jerry emerges from the truck and greets his favorite canine. I say hello to Jerry and we all head inside.
With the unseasonably warm weather, I am wearing flip flops. As I step into the breezeway, my foot slips (wet, no tracktion flip flops on a bare smooth, concrete floor) and I begin to fall over. "Whoooaaa," I say! Just as I get my other foot planted down and begin to stable myself, Bruno squeezes through the door and knocks out the small shreds of balance that I have.
I begin to go down.
I am falling to the left, where there is a heavy statue of a little boy, holding a metal, John Deere tractor toy. My feet are no longer underneath me and my arms are flailing about. As I continue to fall over, I feel Jerry's hand on my ass. He is mumbling something...is he praying...he is mentioning God...? Did he really think he was going to catch me?


Bruno, who has been staring at us while holding his ball in his mouth, waiting for one of us to play with him again, now decides to get a drink of water. After all, he realizes that he probably has a few moments before we all go inside.
Well, my left arm landed on that toy tractor, and finally I was able to regain controll of my footing. I ended up in a squatting position. Whew! I picked myself up and tried to casually walk inside the house. After the somewhat intimate contact with Jerry, whom I have never met before today, I felt obligated to make a large purchase.
Following a $50 order of frozen food, Jerry bids farewell to Bruno, and I hobble away to nurse my wounds.
How embarrassing.



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