Doggone Wine

Blog post from the InezSays archive
Blog post from the InezSays archive

By: Inie - Fri, 12 Feb 2016

My family would say I have a magnetic animal attraction to chaos. I would argue that chaos randomly finds me just by nature alone.

For some reason on this blistery cold morning in mid-February, I must have woken up with a chaos magnet under my skin by no fault of anyone, it was just what the stars had in store.

Pitt County Humane Society is hosting a fundraiser tomorrow night, and On the Square was fortunate enough to be the supplier of the wine. In hopes of getting back to Tarboro before “snowmageddon,” I jumped in my sweats, tennie pumps and baseball hat to haul the wine to Greenville thinking I would be back home in an hour tops.

Edgecombe County Public Schools were closed today so my lovely children who have a tendency to make monumental messes were home with their father who turns a blind eye toward mess. Trying to make life easier, I decided to take our Dachshund, affectionately known as Bagel, on a road trip since his favorite thing ever is riding in the car. Perfect sense, right? I take my sweet pup on my wine run where the wine will be served at a gala for the Humane Society. What could be better?

Or what could be worse, I later discovered?

Making it to the host’s home by 9:10, I pulled in their driveway, jumped out of the car, and ran to the front door to ask where I should put the vino.

My sweet friend who had so much going on in her house with this gala being 24 hours away along with three beautiful sons under the age of 7 at home for the day asked me if I would put it in the garage.


But not so perfect, when I ran back to the Tahoe only to find the doors locked ala Bagel. Car running, I might add.

You have got to be kidding me.

Except I am so not kidding.

After five minutes of talking to Bagel in the best baby dog voice I could muster, my friend calls from the garage, “Is everything ok?”

“I have been locked out of my running car by my dog,” I say in my kindest voice (which I promise you didn’t sound very kind).

My poor friend who had a million things going on retrieves one of her 13 rescue dogs to try to get Bagel excited and jump on either the unlock button or the roll-down window switch.

Bagel jumps and scratches and howls, but his fat little paws cannot seem to find the same button he hit while I was in the house for a whopping two minutes.

We get a coat hanger, but after 25 minutes of not being successful, it becomes apparent that I need to call Triple A.

Did I mention there happened to be 2 dozen heart shaped Krispy Kreme donuts at my friend’s house?

As I am on the phone with Triple A, there are cars pulling in the driveway to arrange flowers, drop off donation artwork and just all-in-all get ready for this big occasion.

Meanwhile, I have to explain to every single person who asks why there is a running car blocking the driveway that my dog has locked me out.

For someone who loves their dog but is not a huge dog person, I become completely dumbfounded by the responses.

Once they find out my dog is the one who has caused such craziness, instead of being irritated or angry, they become sympathetic and want to make sure that Bagel is ok.

I am not going to lie to you.

Bagel is the least of my concern.

Bagel is in the proverbial doghouse in my mind. Right now, at that very moment, the only thing I am thinking about is putting the dog in his kennel as soon as we get home.

Granted, I would never physically harm the dog.

However, I am more than irritated with him as I wait the 45 minutes for Triple A to arrive.

Even my friend’s husband who cannot get in his own driveway because of my running car is concerned about Bagel. He even informs me that dogs have the brain of a three-year-old.

You don’t say?

IT is like nothing I’ve ever experienced.

No one is mad with the dog.

Did I mention my car is still running?

Tommy from Triple A arrives and couldn’t be any kinder.

“Is your dog alright?” he asks before he has even turned off his ignition.

“The dog is FINE,” I say for possibly the eleventh time.

Tommy asks is this my house. I tell him no, that I am here to deliver wine for the Pitt County Humane Society Gala tomorrow night. He tells me he was invited to the party.

Tommy has 15 rescue cats.

Oh joy.

After Tommy unlocks my door, he shares a moment with Bagel.

Tommy is so kind and taken with the situation, that Tommy from Triple A helps me unload the wine for the event.

Wow! Who knew love for animals ran so deep?

I must say, I have a new fondness for the Humane Society and what they represent.

Today was definitely Bagel’s last wine delivery road trip.

It is also the last time I will ever leave my keys in the car.

Thank you to my friend who could not have been more gracious and forgiving as I waited in her house eating her Krispy Kreme donuts.

You know who you are, and I am most appreciative.

Yours truly,


Tommy is a fictitious name. I have no idea how Triple A feels about their employees unloading wine.

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