Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 149470 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149470 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Aunt Maizy only liked little dogs and there were plenty of those, but just about every breed was also accounted for in the room. I saw an Afghan, a Belgian Malinois, a Tibetan Mastiff, a Samoyed, and even a Pharaoh Hound which probably cost a crazy amount. (Working for my Aunt, I had really gotten to know the different dog breeds.)
In front of the guests chairs were five little cushions arranged in a row—two on one side and three on the other. This is where the rest of my Aunt’s dogs were sitting. All of them were Pomeranians, because that was her “preferred breed,” except for Mousier Chien, her single French Bulldog.
All the dogs had been given a treat bone to gnaw on to keep them busy—they had been handing them out as favors at the door. So aside from a few scattered barks here and there, it was reasonably quiet and you could hear the string quartet in the corner quite well.
Standing at the front of the room was Minister Toby—a retired Methodist pastor who shared Aunt Maizy’s love for dogs. Sitting at his feet was his American Bulldog, Rufus, who was acting as Mr. Piddlesworth’s best man. I noticed that Rufus had on a little black vest and a bowtie, which he had already drooled all over as he messily chewed his bone.
There were two little white satin cushions in front of the minister and Rufus and this is where I deposited Mr. Piddlesworth and Princess Prissy, hoping they would stay still. I plopped the top hat on Mr. Piddlesworth’s little head, crossed my fingers, and stepped back to the far side of the Blue Room, trying to blend into the deep blue walls with their gilded wainscoting.
For a few minutes, everything seemed to be working beautifully. Aunt Maizy came and stood beside her dogs and the music faded so we could all hear the minister somberly intone,
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of God to join these two canines in holy matrimony. Who gives these dogs to be married?”
“I do!” Aunt Maizy said eagerly. Then she stooped down to give both the “bride” and “groom” a quick pat and went back to sit in the chair that had been reserved for her.
In retrospect, that was a mistake. Maybe if she would have stood right there through the ceremony, she could have stopped what happened next. Of course, I’ll never know that for sure, just as I didn’t know that I was about to be abducted—some things are just mysteries.
Anyway, the minister had barely begun saying,
“Do you, Mister Piddlesworth take Princess Prissy to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold—” when Mr. Piddlesworth lost interest in the treat bone that had been left on his satin pillow to keep him busy and started sniffing Prissy’s ass again.
“Mr. Piddlesworth, no!” Aunt Maizy hissed at him. “No naughty humpies—no!”
But there was no stopping what happened next. Mr. Piddlesworth decided that getting some tail was more interesting than getting married and mounted Prissy right there at the altar.
“No! Oh my God!” Aunt Maizy gasped. “Mrs. Piddlesworth…Prissy…stop that—stop! You two aren’t even married yet!”
She rushed up and managed to separate the two dogs somehow, but at that point it seemed that Prissy’s scent was getting around the room. As soon as she was free of Mr. Piddlesworth, Rufus, the Minister’s American Bulldog decided to get in on the action.
This made Aunt Maizy nearly apoplectic.
“Princess Prissy!” she screamed at her dog, her face going nearly purple. “You are acting like a whore! Control yourself!”
Naturally, Princess Prissy did no such thing. While the minister was trying to pull his dog off her, she appeared to be having more fun than she ever had in her life—probably because Aunt Maizy had never gotten her bred before, I speculated.
At this point, my Great Aunt started shouting my name.
“Eliza, where are you? Come help me at once!” she screamed.
I ran forward to the front of the room but there was really nothing I could do. It appeared that Rufus and Princess Prissy had “tied” together and there was no getting them apart. So for the next five minutes everyone in the room just sat there watching the huge Bulldog and the tiny, dainty Pomeranian going to town in agonizing silence.
“The puppies! What will the puppies look like?” Aunt Maizy sobbed.
“I’m so sorry!” Minister Toby was trying to apologize, but when he put a hand on her arm, she shook him off angrily.
“Your brute of a dog is attacking my Prissy!” she hissed at him. “I don’t know how I ever thought you were a good man!”
“Well, he’s just doing what comes, er, naturally,” the befuddled pastor protested.
“It’s not right!” Aunt Maizy exclaimed. “And now Prissy’s puppies will be ruined—just ruined! Who’s going to want a Bulleranian? Or a Pom-Bull? They’ll be hideous!”