Barbeque at some Friends

This weekend we were invited to one of my wife’s Russian friend’s house for shashlik - kababs on the grill for us Americans. We drove for about an hour and finally arrived to hang out.

The woman was making salads when we arrived. And the dog, we’ll change the names in order to protect the innocent. Did I say innocent? We’ll call the obnoxious small dog Fluffy. Now right away Fluffy was very friendly and enjoyed jumping up on your legs and scratching at us, begging for attention.

Fluffy

We got the grand tour of the house. Of course Fluffy followed along with us as we got the tour and he stopped to enjoy himself along the way. Now I understand most dogs would just stop and lick themselves, but not Fluffy. There was a big stuffed bear upstairs and the dog decided to use one of the bear’s legs for his personal enjoyment if you know what I mean…

So after the show, or tour that is, I sat down and cracked open a beer and waited. The husband was in the shower still, so I had to entertain myself while waiting for him. You know Russian women speak Russian when they get together and unless you speak it, you’re typically on your own. So the husband finally comes out and says the traditional chit chat to everyone - hi, how are you, etc.

So the husband is telling this story about the cat and how Russians don’t have animals spayed or neutered (the cat came from Russia with the wife). So he’s telling the story about how the cat ended up getting his balls removed. The funny thing was that Fluffy found a new pleasure post during that story - my leg. So this fur-ball of a dog latched onto my leg while he was telling the story of the cat getting its balls cut off. Apparently the dog still has his balls… Fluffy just kept humping away and I kept shaking him off of my leg. But as soon as I would get rid of him, he would walk around the chair to my other leg and start again! Now having pants on is one thing, but I was in shorts. Talk about a horror movie, this could turn out to be one if Fluffy don’t back off! This dog was about to go flying across the room, but everyone was in there. How to deal with that damn dog? How could I fling this fur-ball into the wall without offending everyone? But wait. Aren’t I the offended one? I finally got up and went outside with the husband to start the barbeque. But Fluffy came along. Fortunately for Fluffy (and me), he was preoccupied chasing a rabbit. I’d hate to think what the rabbit was in store for should he happen to catch it. Maybe a little rabbit love… So anyway, I got a reprieve.

The day went on and Fluffy behaved himself most of the time. Dinner was good, everyone got drunk and we went home. The moral of this story? Don’t wear shorts to a house you have never been to before. They might have a small dog named Fluffy.