Wednesday, October 23, 2013
The Pepsi Junkie
I have blogged about my dog Ted many times over the years and I'm fairly certain that I've relayed this story before but I doubt that a picture has ever been used to reinforce it and so with the discovery of this picture, I tell it again.
Ted was dumped over at my grandfather's farm most likely by a hunter who wasn't too happy about him being gun shy and have his a parting shot in his rear hip as a going away present. Although he recovered from his wounds and lived a decade longer, that buckshot ended up killing him just the same.
Later in my teens, my parents got into the hog business and we spent a summer building a farrowing building at the end of our lane. Every afternoon we would have a Pepsi break in the shade to relax for a few minutes and cool down. Pepsi never tasted better than it did in cold glass bottles and that is still true today.
I don't know how it started or who exactly started it but one of us poured some Pepsi in a bowl for Ted to drink and register a reaction. To our amusement, he would drink a few laps of it, wrinkle his lips and smack his tongue at the fizz and then drink some more. Had we known what was to come, we would never had done so but we did and we lived with the consequences there rest of Ted's life.
It didn't take long before Ted would bring his bowl to every Pepsi break on the farm and he would not leave you alone until you had contributed a portion of your pop to his bowl. Every single one of us. By the time we made our contribution, he probably had more in his bowl than any of us had in our bottles. He would then lay down by his bowl and lap it all up, pausing for a few seconds here and there to let the fizz effect dissipate.
We all drank Pepsi in the beginning but my father and younger brother eventually switched over to Mountain Dew. Although they wouldn't admit it, I am sure it was because Ted never liked Mountain Dew and thus they never had to contribute any of their pop when drinking it.
Eventually the farrowing building was built and the Pepsi breaks became more infrequent but Ted never got over his habit. If we did have a Pepsi break outside when he was around, he was sure to find a container to bring over to get his share. He even learned how to hold the bottle in his mouth and drink directly from it so if a container wasn't handy, he would just hound us until we gave him the last few swallows from the bottle.
After Ted died from the medicine we gave him to relieve the arthritis pains in his rear hip from the old gunshot wound, I rarely could drink a bottle of Pepsi outside without thinking of him and pouring the last swallow onto the ground in his memory. Eventually they quit making bottles and sometime when I was in college, I was forced into drinking it from a can. I'm not sure how Ted would have managed the cans but I'm guessing he would have figured something out.