In The Doghouse, Darn Dog

I blame Doogie, our mutt. It's all his fault. But I am the one in the doghouse.

It happened one night this past weekend while my wife was out with her sister Denise. Coincidentally, the missus had commented earlier that day on how I did not seem overly worried about her coming home late on the sometimes treacherous winter roads. I assured her that her safety is my utmost concern.

Those words came back to bite me when she did arrive home shortly after 10 p.m. From our upstairs bedroom where I was watching TV, I heard a car door slam and a muffled voice. It was Wendy, no doubt. Doogie sprang from his own spot on the bed and barked.

I detected some noise at the door. Obviously, Wendy was letting herself in. More barking from Doog. I turned up the TV. "Go check it out! It's ma," I scolded Doogie.

Well, our dog is a safety first kind of guard dog who would call for back-up if he spotted a mouse. Every couple of steps he descended, he would follow with a fusillade of barks. Eventually he made it downstairs, still barking. Crazy mutt, I thought. My wife must have made a pit stop at the bathroom and Doogie still wasn't aware that all was well.

But it wasn't. As I lie on the bed, the phone on the nightstand rang. Who could that be at this hour, I thought?

"Dave??" came the very clear puzzled voice of my sister-in-law when I answered.

"Denise??" I answered, just as puzzled.

"I have your wife here. We're locked out of the house."

So I quickly descended the stairs, cordless phone in hand, and opened the front door to face my sister-in-law, cell phone in hand, standing on the other side of the storm door, with Wendy.

"Hea, how's it going!" I called into the phone, trying to inject some levity into our situation. They were not amused, however.

I was soon taken to task. No, I didn't remember that I had taken Wendy's keys earlier. No, I didn't hear the doorbell cause the dog was barking. Yes, I do worry about her when it's late. No, I don't know why I locked every outside door. No, I wasn't hiding my girlfriend in the closet.

Eventually, I remembered the joke that asks who would you let in the door first when both your dog and wife are barking. Punchline: It's up to you, but the dog will stop barking once you let him in.

There's a lot of truth in humor . . . sigh.