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Thursday, March 14, 2013

Honey Bear

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This face - there's a story behind this face...

When Dr. SmartyPants and I first got married, we lived in a nice apartment complex near The University of Alabama. We were on the second floor and the guy who never woke up to his alarm clock lived directly underneath us, but that's not relevant to this story. We're still traumatized by him, though - just so you know.

Anyhow - in the next building over, just across a small green space - was a student who had an ancient Yorkshire Terrier by the name of Honey Bear. Honey Bear, as his name indicates, was a mean, mean whirling dervish of a dog with three teeth and the attitude of a wolverine. 

We had a dog, as well - a strange little thing I brought into the marriage. Her name was Molly and she was completely and utterly insane, which is also not relevant to the story. We're still traumatized by her, as well.

So - in the mornings, we would hook Molly up to her leash (because we are law-abiding citizens) and head down the stairs to take her for a walk. It never failed that as soon as we got to the bottom of the stairs, the girl with the Yorkie would open her door and let out her little devil dog...no leash...no owner...just go do your business...

So Honey Bear would come careening down the stairs, full-tilt, barking his fool head off at Molly, who would cower and wimper and whine and refuse to do anything. Honey Bear's owner (funny how I can remember the dog's name, but not hers, isn't it?) would go back inside and do whatever she was doing while we tried to extract ourselves from evil incarnate. A few minutes later, she'd reappear, wondering where her precious shmoopsie was.

She would walk out into the open stairwell and (being in Alabama) holler in the most amazingly shrill voice I've ever heard, "HONEY BAAAAAAAAAAAAYERRRRRRRR! HONEY BAAAAAAAAAYERRRRRR!

HUUUUUUUUUUUNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYEEERRRRRRRR!"

And eventually, Honey Bear would tire of tormenting Molly and go flying back up the stairs and into his owner's loving arms. His owner would wave and say something like, "HEY Y'ALL! AH AYUM SO SORRY. HE'S ONLY GOT THREE TEETH IN HIS WHOLE HEY-ED." Because apparently that was just her speaking voice.

Honestly.

Fourteen years later, and we still laugh about that girl and her evil dog. We wonder if she got married. We wonder if her husband went deaf. We figure a dog that mean is probably still alive, even though he'd be about 25 by now.

What is the point of this story, again? Oh. Yes. Jasper. Up there - that adorable face?

That's what he looks like when we say (very quietly) "Honey Bear" to him.