My brother Andy called me at work, very upset.

Andy is the Dali Lama of rock ‘n roll.  This kid usually doesn’t get bugged by much.  He loves cheese.  He loves cheese like the sea loves water and the sky loves blue.  He is one with the cheese, all mellow and melty.  Sure, sometimes he gets a bit crunchy when fired up, but generally, this kid is a happy camper.

So when Andy gets upset about something (aside from there being no cheese to eat), I tend to listen.

“You are not going to believe this,” he said.  Drama.

“What? What happened?” I asked.

“That stupid dog.”

“Did you back over him on the drive way?”

“No. I dropped mom and dad off [he told me where, but I can’t remember], and they brought the dog and he PUKED on my passenger seat. PUKED.”

Charlie, the dog, is a little King Charles Spaniel (or whatever he is) and he belongs to our sister Sarah.  He has this face that makes me want to snuggle with him all day long, but then he does the most atrocious things, like, for example, puke in my brother’s car.  And poop outside our bedroom door.  And eat the crotches out of dirty panties left on the floor, in open suitcases or in laundry baskets he can get into.

So while he is cute, his stock is on the low side with the family.

And puking in Andy’s brand new car, well, let’s just say his stock was downgraded to whatever is just above junk status.

“Well, the good news is that you can just wipe it out,” I told Andy.  Smart guy got the leather seats.

“Oh – it won’t stain it?”

“Not if you wipe it out.  But if you want to make sure that it doesn’t happen again, back over the dog with the car*.”

“I might.” Big sigh. Drama averted.  If the puke stained, I think he might have considered having an “accident” with the dog.

“Don’t worry Andy, I won’t tell anyone.”

*There were no animals injured or legitimately threatened in the making of this blog post.  I cannot confirm or deny that the above conversation actually took place.  I’m just saying that it might have happened.  I am sure that Charlie will live to eat the crotches out of a lot more underwar.  Godspeed, Charlie.